


Secret Ingredient

by ThetenthtenbeingofTen



Series: Luca and Mari [6]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Anal Sex, Hurt/Comfort, Incest, Love Bites, M/M, Oral Sex, Referenced Child Abuse, Twincest, Verbal Abuse, Yaoi, boyslove, implied alcoholism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-05
Updated: 2018-02-05
Packaged: 2019-03-14 10:17:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 26,321
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13587972
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThetenthtenbeingofTen/pseuds/ThetenthtenbeingofTen
Summary: The twins have been living together for about ten years, working for their daily bread...One evening they hear a fight going on next doors. The neighbour’s child knocks on their door, and being the gentle humans they naturally are, they take the kid in for the evening.Soon though they end up being responsible for the child.This is them, telling you this story.Thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoy!





	Secret Ingredient

**Author's Note:**

> WARNING: this story contains explicit TWINCEST. There are mentions of child abuse and alcoholism - not by the twins!  
> If you are not okay with twincest, you could read the story and just ignore these aspects. If you are really not okay with twincest, you are better off not reading this story.  
> If you are not okay with reading about child abuse, if it triggers you, please be careful if you decide to read this story.  
> You have been warned!
> 
> Also, please note that English is not my first language! If you see mistakes, please let me know, so I can correct them!
> 
> Lastly, this story has switching 1st person narrators!
> 
> And now, enjoy!

_Luca

I've had it. It's the third evening in a row that there's this insufferable noise.  
I sigh, letting the warm droplets of water hit my lips; my eyes closed.  
It's really depressing, really. Hearing that woman shriek, hearing stuff crash, along with a deep growling voice, and worst of all, the frantic screams of a child.  
We rarely see our neighbors.  
We are busy.

During the day we give private lessons in English, Spanish and German; during the evening we work as bartenders in a gay club. Well, not all evenings, but on the weekend and some week days.

On few occasions we see our neighbors though. The woman and her child at least. They go out for groceries.  
We've seen them return a few times with plastic bags in their hands. Bottles of beer in them along with canned meals, vegetables and other stuff.  
The boy isn't older than two years. One and a half, I'd say.

I lick my lips and grab the shampoo to wash my hair properly. I flinch when I hear another shriek.  
I'm sure Mari can't handle this either.

I often caught him, staring out the window, lost in thought. When I'd ask him about it, he'd turn around and look at the wall behind us. The one that's between our neighbors and us.

There's a knock on the door and seconds later my twin pokes his head through the door.  
“I need to pee”, he says, sounding apologetic.  
We only have one bathroom, so this isn't too unusual.  
We're brothers, we've seen everything of each other.

I know every square inch of his body.

He goes over to the toilet and turns his back on me as he unzips his jeans.  
I go back to washing my hair, eyes closed so the foam won't get in them. Once my hair is sufficiently lathered up, I step under the shower stream again and rinse it.

Mari turns towards me.  
“I'll flush, get away from the water”, he tells me and I do as he tells me. He flushes and I wait for the water to turn to it's normal temperature again.  
Once it's back I step under the stream again and rinse off my body. Well, honestly I'm just standing under the stream because it's warm and relaxing.  
Mari reaches past the curtain with both his hands, and I take them, getting them wet. He smiles at me and pulls away.  
I run my hands through my hair while he goes to dry off his hands.

“Take your time, beefcake”, he jokes and leaves the bathroom.  
“Will do, twink”, I murmur and turn off the water before reaching for my towel and drying off my face.  
I continue to dry myself off, when I hear the door being opened. Not that of the bathroom, but the front door.  
I stand still for a moment, trying to listen for voices but I can't understand anything. Though I do hear Mari speak.

I decide to have a look and put on my underwear and jeans for decency.

Like this I walk out into the hallway, where I'm surprised to find Mari, cradling a child.  
The neighbor's child to be exact.

“What…?” I blurt out and get their attention.  
Mari picks the boy up and rocks him back and forth. He's gentle in a way, that I haven't seen in a long time.  
The boy sobs, hiding his little red face against Mari's shirt. It doesn't bother Mari much, as he rubs the boy's back with his free hand.  
He looks at me and nods towards the door.  
“Close it please”, he whispers and I nod. I walk to the front door and look outside to the hallway, where I can see the door of our neighbors. It's shut. I guess the kid just couldn't bear it anymore and went as far as he dared.  
Which is our door.

I close our door and follow Mari to the living room.  
He's sitting on the couch with the child, still cradling him.  
“There, deep breaths, okay? Luca will make you some hot chocolate, and you tell us your story, okay?”, he says softly, throwing me a pleading glance.  
Of course I'll do it.

I go to the kitchen and take out a relatively big cup. This kid needs it now. I put in two spoons of cocoa powder, add one spoon of sugar and another spoonful of a special mix of spices. It's got coconut, vanilla, cinnamon and other stuff in it. It smells really nice.  
I mix the powders together and add some milk, put it in the microwave for 30 seconds and add more milk once it's warmed up.  
I sip a bit of it and lick the spoon that I used to stir it.  
Deeming this good enough I go back to the living room.

The situation seems to be better now. The boy isn't clinging to Mari anymore – not that desperately at least – and even manages to look up at me.  
I smile at him and come closer, kneeling in front of him and Mari to hand him the hot chocolate.  
“There you go”, I say and make sure he's holding the cup with both hands, helping him lift it up to his lips and take a big gulp.  
I feel Mari's gaze on me.

The boy looks at me, giving the cup back to me.  
“Enough for now? Mari can hold it for you”, I say, giving the cup to Mari.  
“Feeling better? What's your name?”, Mari asks, holding the cup with one hand and stroking the boy's short hair with the other.  
The child nods and remains silent for a while.  
“Sam”, he finally answers and reaches for the cup. Mari helps him drink more of the hot chocolate and I sit next to them on the couch.

The three of us flinch when there's another crash, along with a terrifying yell.  
Sam tears up, pushing the cup back to Mari.  
He looks like he's ready to run away again.

“Hey, it's okay. You're safe here”, I say, catching his attention. He stares at me with big teary eyes. It's heartbreaking, really.  
I stroke his cheek with my index finger, wiping away his tears before they can fall.  
As weird as it may sound, I remember doing this to Mari, when he was that age. And I remember having Mari do the same to me.  
Sam sobs, but looks at Mari, once he starts singing.  
Mari sings a children's song. One of the countless ones we've been taught at school. It doesn't really matter what he sings, it provides something to listen to instead of the fighting next door.  
I look at him, feeling warmth spread through my chest. He probably had the same thought as me, when I wiped Sam's tears.  
Only he was smart enough to think of this.  
Singing for him.

Sam listens, his tears forgotten.

Mari's song ends and he looks at Sam. Sam relaxed, resting his head on Mari's chest while he listened.  
“Will you tell us your story?”, I ask softly.  
Sam looks at me, eyes drooping. He's tired, I guess. The warm milk in the hot chocolate soothing him enough to make him sleepy.  
“Papa is… being mean. To mama. And me”, Sam states, sounding dead. I feel the corners of my eyes burn with tears.  
Mari swallows hard and turns his face away. He takes a deep, shaky breath and turns back to Sam.  
“I see. I'm sorry to hear that. Really”, he says warmly. Sam looks at him. “You can come here when you can't bear staying with them. That is when we're at home. We have to work, but whenever we're home, you're welcome to stay until things are okay again”, Mari suddenly says.  
I look at him in surprise, but honestly, it might as well have been me, who said this. I agree.  
Sam mirrors my surprise, but seems quite overwhelmed with this offer.  
“But...” he tries, cutting himself off when there's a loud banging sound. Mari rubs his back and nuzzles the top of his head before he can start crying.  
It doesn't do much when we hear banging on the front door though.

Mari sets down the cup and stands up, still holding Sam. I follow him.  
He opens the door, revealing the father in front of the our door.  
Sam starts crying, trembling and shuddering in Mari's arms.  
“Have… oh… there you are, Sam”, the man starts and clears his throat. I stare at him coldly. Mari's gaze isn't much gentler than mine.  
“Yes. He's here. Your fight scared him”, Mari says. I can tell just how much force it takes him to make his voice sound this calm.  
“I'm sorry. It must have been bothersome”, Sam's father says, actually sounding like he feels bad for it.  
I don't really believe him. His face is too red, his eyes too bloodshot for me to trust him. Not to mention his scraped knuckles.  
I really hope he beat up a wall, or the furniture instead of his wife.

Sam was unharmed though, so I hope his mother is too. I briefly wonder if Mari checked him for bruises while I was in the kitchen.

“It wasn't so much bothersome, as it's just sad. Can you even look your son in the eyes anymore?”, Mari asks.

The man grunts something unintelligible before reaching for Sam. Mari takes a step back.  
“Can I trust you not to hurt him?”, he asks, voice cold.  
Dumbfounded Sam's father stares at Mari.  
“You dare to take my son away from me?!”, he barks. Mari glares at him.  
“You're not making things better. I can very well shut this door and call the authorities, if I don't see any intention of protecting your child from you”  
“Fine. I'm sorry. I was wrong. Please give me back my son”

Mari doesn't move.  
“Put him to bed and apologize to him” he tells him, before stepping forward again. I glance at Sam.  
Sam's cheeks are wet with tears flowing from his eyes. They soaked into his shirt and Mari's.  
I glare at the man.  
Just by looking at the child I can tell, just how much pain he's caused him.

“Thank you… for looking after him” he grunts once Mari gave Sam back to him. Sam reluctantly lets go of Mari's shirt and clutches his father's shirt immediately.  
Poor boy.  
He needs something, someone to hold onto, and the only one he has right now, is his asshole-dad.  
“Anytime”, Mari says quietly once the man turned his back on us.

He closes the door and looks at me.  
His eyes scream pain and exhaustion. I pull him into my arms and rub his back, slipping my hands under his shirt.  
I feel the contours of his muscles and bones under my hands, pulling him closer. He hides his face in the crook of my neck and takes a shuddering breath.  
“It's silent”, he whispers before wrapping his arms around me, fists clenched against my back.  
Yeah, it is. I really hope that ass put Sam to bed and won't hurt anyone anymore.  
“You did well”, I tell him honestly, kissing his neck when he pulls away from me to look up.  
“I feel like I shouldn't have let him take Sam”, he murmurs.  
“I know. I feel the same. But it's his dad. We have no right to interfere”, I say, pulling him in for a kiss.

“Why...” he asks, touching his lips once I pull back to look at him.  
“Comfort”, I say and grab his wrist. Gently I move his hand away from is mouth and kiss him again.

He kisses back, moving his lips gently against mine.

“It's late. We have work tomorrow”, I say once I release him. He nods and walks past me towards our bedroom.  
I follow.

He pulls his shirt over his head before he even reaches the door, kicking it open with his foot instead of using his hands.  
I rest my hand on his back to guide him while he can't see with the shirt over his head. He tosses it into the laundry basket without even looking.

I undo my pants and take them off while he does the same.  
He's faster than me and grabs our sleeping clothes.  
We could sleep naked, but somehow we got used to wearing soft pyjama bottoms, especially during fall and winter.  
He hands me my pair – not that there's any difference between our clothes – and I put it on. He does the same with his, pulling up the hem of one pant leg though.  
“I need to shave again...” he murmurs. He straightens his back, letting to of the fabric and sighs, staring at the ceiling for a moment.  
I take the opportunity to step up close to him and kiss his throat.  
“You can do it tomorrow before work” I say and pull him with me towards our bed. He follows effortlessly.  
I walk backwards, pulling him with me until I feel the edge of the bed against the back of my knees. He pushes me so I fall backwards on it, crawling over me.

We haven't slept in separate beds ever since we've been out of school. And even before that, we slept together whenever we could.  
Well, when we have guests who don't know about us, we just tell them it's cheaper to have only one bed, instead of two, and it takes up less space, and we're brothers so it doesn't matter.  
But there's always lube on the nightstand.

He crawls further, so he can rest his head on his pillow. I move up too, laying on my side, facing him.  
He's on his back, his head turned towards me. With his right hand he reaches for me, resting his arm over my side.  
I reach behind me, where our blanket is bunched up against the wall and pull it over our bodies.  
He closes his eyes and I watch him lay unmoving for a long moment.  
Only when I shift closer to him does he open his eyes again. I kiss his shoulder, feeling the bones under my lips. He's not as thin as he was when we were younger, but still; thinner than me.  
I lay my hand on his chest, brushing his collarbones with my fingertips.  
“Sleep”, he says, voice hoarse.  
I kiss his shoulder again.

His skin used to feel softer against my lips. It's still soft; and smooth too. But age sure caught up to us.  
We've always seemed to look a bit older than we actually are. Something about the shape of our eyes maybe.  
I look at Mari's face.

We may be twins, look the same, but we're different.  
As I said, he's thinner.  
His face looks more gaunt than mine. Especially the dark circles under his eyes. We have the same sleep pattern, yet he still looks like he sleeps 10 hours less than me.

I don't mind it, as long as he's feeling okay. 

“Luca”, he says softly, his voice still sounding a bit too raspy. He's not uncaring. He's not heartless. Not at all.

I pull him up against me, spooning him. I kiss his nape, entangling our legs, reaching around him to rest my hand against his belly.  
I feel him breathe under my hand.

I kiss his nape again, ignoring his hair, tickling my face. He shudders.

I slide my hand lower, fingertips touching the soft hairs on his abdomen. He nudges me with his elbow.  
“Sorry, sorry…”, I say, kissing his nape once more.  
He sighs and grabs my hand, intertwining our fingers.

_Mari

When I wake up, I'm being held tightly. Hiding his face against my neck, his arms wrapped around me, his legs still tangled with mine.  
I shift slightly, my heart beating absurdly fast.  
Luca's grasp on me tightens.  
It's hard to breathe at this point, but I don't mind.  
I glance at the clock on our nightstand and see that there's still time before I'd have to shower and go to work.

I relax again.  
Luca nuzzles my nape and rolls his hips ever so slightly, pressing his crotch into the cleft between my ass cheeks.  
My heartbeat picks up again, and this time I feel myself grow hotter.

He runs his left hand over my chest, palming my groin with his right, rolling his hips again and breathes against my neck. I let out a shuddering gasp.  
His hands still.  
“Mari” He sounds breathless.

“Yes”

I sound just as breathless.  
He pulls out his arm from underneath my body and leans on his elbow, slipping his left hand into my underwear.  
He grabs me firmly but gently and rolls his hips against mine again, pushing me forward. I rest my head on my crossed arms over the pillow and breathe.  
My body is tingling already, my heart beating out of my chest.

Luca watches me, I can feel his eyes on me.

I feel him move, he takes his hand off me and moments later I feel his hot length against my clothed ass.  
“Fuck me, Luca”, I say, not willing to have him dry-hump me all morning.

He leans over me and presses open mouthed kisses all over my shoulders and back.  
“Anything” he breathes and pulls down my pants.  
He reaches out for the lube. I grab it and hand it to him.

I get the feeling, that he's deliberately taking his time.

He doesn't touch me for a while, even though I hear the wet sounds of lube being smeared on skin. I turn halfway around, looking at him.

He shamelessly rubs himself, only now breaking eye contact with my ass. He looks at me with a guilty expression; that is, if he wasn't biting his lip seductively.  
I let out a soundless moan, turning on my back and spreading my legs as far as I can, with my pyjamas still around my thighs.

He pushes my legs up, so my thighs are up against my chest, staring down between my legs.  
“Don't look” I whimper.  
He pulls off my pants and underwear, kissing my now exposed ankles, down to my calves and the back of my knee.  
I flinch at the touch. 

In the past I would have tried to pry him off me, feeling uncomfortable with my legs like this. The hairs are really coarse and itchy on them when I don't shave them for a few days.  
He never really cared.  
Sure, he shaves too, but that's only our aesthetic. We wear long pants and jeans most of the time anyways, so it's not even like anyone aside from us would see if we shaved or not.  
But it's… a habit.

He pulls away from me and I hear him open the cap of the lube again. Seconds later I feel his fingers against my ass.  
I spread my legs, now that they're free and push myself up, so he can slip his thighs under my ass. 

Sometimes I miss his gentle voice, ordering me around as he tries to figure out how to do this right. When we were younger we spoke so much to each other.  
Now it's become a routine, no matter what we do.

“Luca”, I call softly, looking at him.  
He smiles at me and pushes his fingers in. This isn't preparation… it's foreplay.  
He knows that he could just push in and fuck me hard, and I wouldn't be hurt at all. I giggle, realizing just how whorish that must sound if I were to say it out loud.  
“What's so funny?”, he asks, scissoring his fingers inside me.  
“Nothing”, I say, squeezing his fingers.  
He stares me down and pushes his fingers in deeper, changing the angle and hitting my prostate.  
I don't dare to break eye contact, but my muscles go lax and a low moan escapes my throat.  
“So?”, he asks, pulling out his fingers agonizingly slowly.  
“I'm… a whore for you~” I say, deciding, that I'm fine with being his whore if that means, I get to enjoy him like this.

He halts his movements, looking at me with what looks like surprise on his face.  
“You asked for this…” he says and aligns his tip with my entrance. I barely have time to flash him a knowing smile before he pushes his entire length inside me.  
He doesn't wait at all, pulling out and thrusting in right away.  
I gasp, pant and clutch the bedsheets as though to secure myself where I am.

He grabs my legs, pulling me closer whenever he thrusts, hitting hard inside of me.

I my chest feels like it's about to burst, my belly burning and tingling.

I want to touch myself, but at the same time, I don't want to.

I want to cum from him alone. I want him to feel me clench around him, I want him to moan my name and spill deep inside of me.  
“Luca… more...” I moan, locking my feet behind his back, feeling him thrust in deeper.  
He releases my legs and holds onto my wrists instead, pushing them into the pillow above my head, staring into my eyes.  
He slows down.

My chest is going to burst… really… please…  
I raise my hips, trying to make him move faster again, trying to feel more.  
“Easy… I'm not going anywhere”, he huffs and winces when I clench around him.  
“Fuck me, Luca. Fuck me!”, I demand and he laughs.  
I feel him twitch and tremble inside of me with his laughter. _I hate you, Luca…_

He moves so slowly, taking his sweet time pulling out, and just as much pushing in. I think I can feel every single vein on his cock sliding in and out of me.  
He twitches inside of me and halts his movements entirely.  
No self restraint. No stamina whatsoever.

He stares at me, looking exhausted and pained. He takes deep and slow breaths before panting my name and kissing me, moving once more.  
I respond, opening my mouth for him and letting my tongue dance with his, while he riles me up more and more with his slow rhythm.

I break the kiss, letting out a real moan, almost a yell.  
He knows I can't handle this slow pace. He knows I'd rather have him fuck me hard and fast, cum and be done with it. He knows… and because he knows he likes to take his time.

It's not like I hate it. It's not like it hurts me.  
It's too much to bear.  
It doesn't take my breath away in the same way as a quick, hard session would. It gives me the time to build up my pleasure, gives me time to feel the pressure.  
And he knows just how to draw out my moans, how to make me cry.

He pulls out and pushes in again, pushing in as deep as possible, drawing another moan from me. He smiles.  
“Yes...” he groans and moves down to kiss my neck, biting me gently as he fucks me slowly. I can't…  
I used to be so silent.  
Here I am now, moaning out loud and writhing under him.

I'm trembling.  
I love him so much… I love him…  
“Luca… ahhh…” I whine, closing my eyes and throwing back my head. No more… I can't… 

He bites down over my throat, catching my skin between his teeth. I moan, moving my hips desperately.  
Just fuck me, please… please, please!  
Please!

He releases one of my wrists, reaching between us, but instead of jerking me off, he aligns his fingers with his cock.

Oh god…

He's pushing them in… they're in… with his cock… oh my… 

He curls them just so, making me cry out.  
He's evil… he's wicked… I hate him. Oh my god, I hate him… 

I hear him choke out a moan, as he pushes himself inside me.  
“M-mari…” he pants, trembling.

My eyes burn when I open them, wondering when I'd closed them.  
With my free hand I stroke his cheek, pulling him in for a kiss.

He thrusts in. He broke.  
Finally.  
His thrusts go from hard to feral and he basically claws at my prostate with his fingers inside me.  
I can't stop crying, screaming almost.  
I'm so close, I'm there… right there… oh…

My voice breaks when I cum; I feel him pull out his fingers, squeezing my weeping member, while he thrusts in so hard it hurts.  
He cums with me.

I twitch, muscles contracting with the aftershocks of my orgasm.  
He thrust in a few times with a desperate, jerky not-rhythm before he collapsed on top of me.

“I… ha… hate… you…” I manage to force out, holding my breath for a moment. My heart beats insanely hard.  
When I let out my breath I feel like something inside me just… falls.  
I feel light; satisfied and happy.  
He kisses my neck, panting still.  
“I love you… so much...” he breathes, giving one last, slow thrust before pulling out.

That's it for the bedsheets, I suppose.

I shudder.  
He laughs softly and pushes himself up on his elbows. He looks at me with stupidly loving eyes.  
“Oh Luca...” I murmur and lift up my head to kiss him quickly.

He smiles against my lips and pushes himself up further, sitting up between my legs.  
He looks at me.  
At my ass.  
For a few moments he remains silent and motionless, then he shakes his head and stands up, taking off his pyjama bottoms.  
He couldn't be bothered to take them off earlier, so now they got cum and lube on them. He wipes his hand on the fabric and tosses them into the laundry basket and looks at me.

I lay on the bed, legs splayed.  
“Didn't you want to shower before work?”, Luca asks and strokes my knee with his less dirty hand.

I nod.  
“Yeah. But thanks to a certain someone I'm boneless right now”, I say and smile at him. He smiles back at me.  
“I'll make breakfast. Anything you want?”, he asks, walking over to our wardrobe to get dressed.  
“Rice…” I say, knowing he'll laugh.  
He laughs.  
“Okay”, he chuckles and puts on a pair of boxer briefs.

I sit up, rubbing my abdomen.  
He didn't hold back… 

“You okay?”, he asks. I nod.  
“Yeah, don't worry”, I say and get up, walking to the bathroom quickly. Luca's semen is running down my legs, and I don't want to get it on the carpet in the corridor.

I step into the shower and once again I sorely miss the times when we had a bathtub.  
I don't move away when the cold water hits me. It always takes a moment to warm up.  
The cold helps me to wake up more fully, wake up from my post-coital dreaminess.

Once the water warms up, I rest my back against the cold wall, spreading my legs a little and reach down, pushing in my fingers to get Luca's semen out of me.  
I'd rather not have it stain my underwear later.

The water, hitting my stomach washes away my own cum.

_Luca

Breakfast is done when Mari steps into the living room.  
He walks around the corner towards our table and sits on his chair. He's only wrapped himself in a towel, not bothering to put on clothes for now.  
I smile at him and set down his plate in front of him.

“Scrambled eggs with rice?”, he says and holds out his hand for the fork. I nod.  
“With veggies”, I add and sit on my chair, forks in one hand, plate in the other.

“Fork”, he demands, hand still in the air. I smirk and stab some of the egg on his plate, holding up the fork in front of his lips.  
He opens his mouth like a good boy and licks his lips while he chews.  
“Good?”, I ask, knowing he'll say yes.  
He takes the fork from me and nods, shoving another bit into his mouth.

I'm happy to see him eat this eagerly.

There was a time, when he barely managed to choke down his food.  
He was almost underweight.

Sometimes I still see him stare at his food hesitantly. I rub his back in those moments and he wakes up from his memories, eating properly.

I made an effort to cook delicious food, to make it as easy as possible for him to eat happily.

He stops eating and looks at me with a questioning look on his face.  
“Is it poisoned?”, he asks.

I haven't touched my own plate yet, I realize. I laugh.  
“Yes, it is. Overdosed with my love for you”, I joke. No, I don't joke. It's true.

He withers, gaze softening. His lips almost quiver.  
He gets up, crossing the short distance between us and kisses me. His arms wrap around my neck and I hold onto his hips.  
When we break apart, he chases my lips, kissing me again.  
“Mari”, I whisper against his lips.  
He pulls away and looks at me.

I smile.  
I know he loves me. I know he loves me for all I did for him. I know he loves me for saving him, without him having to call for me.  
I've seen him at his worst, and I'm still here.

I stroke his smooth legs.  
This is one of those things.  
He used to shave much more frequently, stopping me when I made a move on him, when his legs weren't shaved.  
He used to be much more hesitant, insecure about his body.

I didn't care.

Well, I did. I worried, seeing his hip bones sticking out under his pale skin. I worried, seeing his ribs when he stood straight.  
I worried, seeing his shoulder blades move under the skin.

But I loved him.  
I loved him so much, and I still do.

“Eat while it's warm”, I say gently.  
He nods.

He sits on his chair again, crossing his legs and continues his breakfast while I start eating too.  
“Isn't the coffee ready yet?”, he asks after a while.  
I jump up.  
“Ah, yes, I forgot!”, I run off to the kitchen, hearing him giggle behind me.

I take out two cups, noticing the absence of the one, we offered to Sam yesterday. I stop moving.  
Sam… I hope he's better today. I hope his mother protects him, I hope his dad gets his act together.  
I hope they try for him.

Before Mari could notice I pour our coffee, adding a bit of milk from the fridge and bring our cups back to the table.  
Mari takes his from me and takes a big sip.

He looks at me and I take a sip from my cup as well.  
He noticed.

I let out the breath I was holding without realizing.

He finishes his plate and keeps me company, sipping his coffee while I eat.  
“I'm tutoring Micha today”, he says. We both tutor Micha. I do German, Mari English.  
“Yeah. I'll be busy with Julia and Lena”, I nod, shoving the last bit of my food into my mouth.  
He nods and sighs.

We help at our old school. We used to be pupils here for 6 years. 

We hold hands when we arrive at the gate.  
We're so used to it, we don't notice, unless someone points it out to us. A woman approaches us, and it takes us a moment to recognize her as one of our former teachers.  
“The Köhler-Twins!”, she says happily. We smile at her.  
“Mrs. Homes, it's good to see you”, Mari greets her and hold out his hand to her. She takes it and squeezes it gently.  
“I'm glad to see you two still get along”, she says and holds out her hand to me. I let go Mari's hand and take hers.  
“Yeah. You're still teaching? We haven't seen you around”, I say looking at my watch quickly. There's enough time to chat, before our pupils come.  
“Yes. I've had surgery on my hip, but I'm as good as new and I still love this job”, she says, knocking her own hip jokingly.  
“Oh, I hope it all went well?”, Mari asks. Mrs. Homes nods and smiles.  
She lets out a deep breath and looks at us, Mari and me.  
“What brings you here, actually? You're a bit too old to learn anything here, I think?”  
We chuckle.  
“No, but others can learn from us” - “You teach?!”  
I smile.  
“We tutor”  
She nods understandingly.  
“Then I won't keep you any longer, when you're needed elsewhere”, she reaches up to us, giving each of us a pat on the shoulder.  
Mari actually bows for her and I can't help but do the same, laughing.  
We used to barely reach her shoulder in the past. But we had quite the growth spurt since we turned fourteen.

 

In the evening we're back at home.  
We're not needed at the bar tonight, so we've got a free evening.

We sit on the couch, cuddling. He sits between my legs, resting his head on my shoulder, arm wrapped around my back.  
Next doors is quite silent.  
I guess it's okay.

I run my fingers through his hair, thinking about nothing in particular.  
He'd probably purr if he could.  
I nuzzle the top of his head.  
“We got work at the bar tomorrow, right?”, he asks suddenly and looks at me. I look back at him and nod.  
“Yeah. I don't really wanna go”, I murmur and rest my head against the backrest.  
“Even though Paul will come with his friends”, Mari says, laying his hand on my chest. I look at him again.  
“Did he say that?”, I ask.  
“Yeah. He sent me a text”  
“Oh? He texts you, and I don't know about it?”, I ask, lifting his chin with my finger. Mari's expression doesn't change at all. He looks at me with gentle eyes.  
I kiss him.

 

The peace next doors didn't last long.  
We had just returned from the bar, about a week after Sam first came over to our place, when the boy knocked on our door again.

I opened the door this time, still in my work clothes.  
“C-can… I stay…?”, Sam asked, voice trembling so bad I barely understood his words. I didn't need to understand them though.  
I knelt and opened my arms, waiting for him to stumble towards me.  
Once he's clutching my vest, face hidden against my shoulder I stand up and close the door.  
“Mari, don't undress!”, I call out softly and walk to the living room.  
As though he just realized that I wasn't the one who held him last time Sam flinches and looks at me.  
Mari runs to the living room, buttoning up his shirt again.  
“Again...” he says, understanding.

There's a loud crash, then a scream.  
Mari flinches.

So does Sam in my arms.  
I rock him gently and walk to the kitchen, Mari following us.  
“I'll teach you something good now”, I say to Sam and sit him on the counter in the kitchen. I look at Mari, and as I thought Mari stands in front of Sam, holding onto him with both hands, making sure he won't fall if he moves carelessly.  
I take out the cup we gave him last time too and prepare hot chocolate.  
This is the second time, and it already feels like a routine forming.

I can tell Mari feels this too, when he sighs softly.  
I glance at Sam, who looks at me with curious eyes.  
“This is how I made your hot chocolate last time”, I explain, letting him have a look at the cocoa powder and sugar and spices in the cup, before I add the milk.  
“Did you like it?”, Mari asks, as an afterthought. Sam drank it eagerly last time, so he doesn't hate it. This is just to keep his mind occupied.  
Keep him from listening to the yelling beyond the wall.

Sam nods, chewing on his fingers while he watches me.

Mari smiles warmly at him, even though Sam doesn't look at him. I feel my heart warm up a bit.  
Once the hot chocolate is ready I look at Mari.  
“Let's go to the couch. It's more comfortable there, isn't it?”, I say more to Sam than Mari. Mari gently picks up the child, but stops dead in his movement when Sam lets out a cry.  
Immediately Mari adjusts his grasp on him, careful not to put pressure on Sam's back.  
“I'm sorry… I'm so sorry”, he says, covering Sam's head with his hand protectively.  
I stand frozen in place.

I really, really, really hope this child just fell while he was playing, and wasn't actually hit by his father.

“Luca, come on. We're gonna sit on the couch”, Mari calls gently. My eyes snap up to him after staring at the counter in shock.  
I can tell just how much Mari is hurting. He can't bear seeing a child in pain. He can't bear hearing a child cry.

I suppress my angry trembling, not wanting to scare the boy any more.

I follow Mari to the couch, where he sits down with Sam in his lap.  
“Sam, where did I hurt you?”, he asks. It feels wrong, how he blames himself for Sam's pain, but looking at him I can tell, he's doing it for Sam's sake.  
He's doing all he possibly can, to take the boy's mind off of his parent's cruelty.

Sure, they might not be so bad, just bad tempered and too aggressive towards each other, but that's a form of abuse for a child too.  
Abuse doesn't start with slaps and punches.  
It starts much earlier, with misdirected hatred, and neglect.

Sam touches his shoulder and looks at Mari with teary eyes.  
Mari nods understandingly.  
“Is it okay for you if I take off your shirt for a second? I want to see if it's bad”, he says, voice warm and sweet.  
Sam hesitates.  
“We've gotten hurt too, from time to time. So we got stuff to make our injuries heal quicker”, I say, setting the hot chocolate down on the little coffee table.  
“That's right. We can see if we have something helpful for you, if we have a look at your shoulder”, Mari agrees and gently tugs up Sam's shirt over his head.

There isn't much visible on Sam's shoulder. Mari touches the skin carefully. Sam winces.  
“Sorry. Is it here?”, Mari asks and earns a nod from the boy.  
“I see”

I come closer, catching Sam's attention.  
“I think I have the right thing for you. Give me a second”, I say and go to the bathroom. I take out a cooling balm. It won't actually do much for the bruise that's probably forming there, but I think it'll help Sam's heart, to experience this kind of care.  
I'm certain that's what Mari had in mind, when he asked to check the injury.

I come back, holding up the container triumphantly.  
Sam stares at me with wide eyes, holding the hot chocolate with both hands. Mari smiles.  
I kneel by their side and open the container, picking up some balm on my fingers to rub it carefully onto Sam's shoulder.  
He stares at me with amazement written all over his face and honestly, I could weep.

Mari takes Sam's cup from him, so I can help Sam put on his shirt again.  
Once he's dressed again he reaches for the cup and Mari hands it back to him smiling.  
“You like Luca's hot chocolate a lot, do you?”, he says, stroking Sam's back.  
The boy nods, half of his face hidden behind the rim of the cup.

I smile and this time I don't feel like I'm putting on a mask for the child, but like I'm actually happy. It warms my heart to see him enjoy this simple hot chocolate like this.  
Mari feels it too.  
Sam finishes his cup and I set it on the coffee table.

Mari lets him rest against his chest, stroking his head.  
Just like the last time the boy's eyes droop and he starts to doze off. I feel bad for him, if he'll be startled by the banging on the door when the dad comes to get him again.

I stand up and take the cup to the kitchen, washing it in the sink and go to the bathroom to put the balm back.  
I look in the mirror.  
I've reached Mari's level of under eye circles. Wow.

I walk back to the living room, where I find Mari as I left him. Cradling the sleeping boy.

I don't want to disturb him, so I sit on the floor, resting my head against Mari's knee.  
Mari looks at me with a sad smile.

Before long there's a knock on our door. I get up and open up, expecting to see Sam's father.  
His mother looks up at me, expression fearful.  
“Is… Sam here?”, she asks, sounding just as fearful as she looks. I nod.  
“Yes. He's sleeping”, I say and throw a glance into the living room.

Ever so gently I see Mari standing up with Sam in his arms. He walks to the door and stands next to me.  
He looks at the woman.  
Her hair is dark at the roots, bleached to a yellow-orange color. She's wearing makeup. Likely to cover up her bruises I think to myself.

“Sam hurt his shoulder, do you know how that happened?”, Mari asks, carefully laying the boy into his mother's arms.  
She nods.  
“He fell. He isn't good at walking yet”, she says and smiles at her child.

“Please, fix things. For him”, I say to her, before she can turn away. She looks at me as if I'd caught her red handed.  
I smile at her reassuringly.  
“Yes. Thank you. I understand it's the second time he came to your place?”, she says shyly, turning away slowly.  
“Yeah. It's okay, we won't chase him away. It's better if he stays here when things escalate, isn't that true?” I ask and she seems to feel that I expect her to nod and agree with me.  
She does so stiffly and hurries away.

I look after her as she goes back to her own apartment and I think I can hear her husband talk to her; then the door shuts.

Mari grabs my hand.

I shut the door and squeeze his hand.

_Mari

Luca's hand is warm; cradling my cheek as we lay in bed.  
Hours after we went to bed the yelling started again.

It reminds me of the evening, when I came out to our parents. Dad was shocked, took a while to understand his feelings. He said hurtful things to our mother, to our aunt; said things in anger, so Luca and I locked ourselves up in my room.  
We hid under the covers of my bed, holding onto each other.

I was eleven.

I was in love.

I wonder how Luca felt back then.  
He didn't love me back then the way he does now. 

“I feel like praying...” he says, interrupting my thoughts.  
We're atheists. We don't believe in a god.  
But I get him.  
Sometimes you feel helpless, and you wish for something, someone to come and save you. Or in our case I guess, we wish for someone to save Sam.

I fold my hands and open my mouth; only nothing comes out.  
“I don't even know… how to pray properly”, I say, forcing a smile.

Luca knows it's forced.

He pulls me closer, wrapping his arms around me.  
“Do you believe her?”, he asks suddenly.  
“Sam's mother?”, I ask, looking at him.  
He nods.  
“I want to. I mean, it might be true. I hope it is”, I whisper.

We've had our fair share of beatings.  
Kids can be cruel, and we learned that the hard way.  
In school we were bullied for being 'weird twins' and later, when I fell in love with Robin, they bullied him and me for being gay. Being my twin, Luca was pulled into the mess.

Often we'd come home with sore knuckles and bruised bodies, busted lips, bleeding noses.

Even later, once we were adults we got in trouble sometimes.  
I remember one time, when we left a gay club with Paul, Daniel and James – who's not gay but came with us because he's our friend – we were attacked by rowdies.  
They stayed at a distance, throwing empty cans at us and even small stones.

“If he's hurt again when he stands at our door I'll call the authorities”, Luca says.

_Luca

It's sooner than we hoped that we see Sam again.  
It's been about two months, and I get the feeling that his parents kept closer watch over him, so he wouldn't run away again.

Still, the fighting didn't stop.

How often has Mari glanced at his phone? How often did I see him stare at the web page of child protective services?

How often did I see him wince when he heard, among the crashing and yelling, the voice of the child?

Maybe Sam had come to our door more often than we know.  
It's been stressful lately. Many kids have problems with their grades, exams coming closer.  
We haven't been home a lot lately.

So it's a shock to see him at our doorstep now. Bruise forming on his cheek.

I can't move, staring down at the boy in disbelief.  
“Luca?”, Mari calls from the kitchen. He comes to the front door and freezes.  
“Oh no...” he gasps.

Sam trembles, tears running down his face.  
He makes a hesitant move away from the door, when Mari snaps out of his shock and kneels. He opens his arms invitingly.  
“Is… … is it… okay…?”, Sam stutters, looking like his knees may give out under him at any moment.  
“Yes. It's okay. We'll keep you safe”, Mari says and catches Sam, who takes a wobbly step towards him.

It's like something broke inside him.  
Sam starts crying, clutching Mari's bare shoulders.  
Mari had already undressed after work, wearing sweatpants and nothing else.

The boy's cries wake me up from my numbness. Finally I close the door behind him and walk to the kitchen.  
I'm glad that Mari had turned off the stove, or else our dinner would be ruined now.

I turn the stove back on and stir the food in the pan.

Mari carries the boy into the kitchen, stroking the back of his head, his neck, his back, holding him close to his body.  
“Shhh, it's okay now. You're safe. We'll keep you safe”, he murmurs soothingly, while he adjusts his grasp on the boy to free one of his hands.  
He reaches up to one of the shelves in our kitchen, taking a package of chocolate from it. I see it's the good chocolate, the one with nougat in it.  
It melts nicely, tastes very sweet.

We don't think it's the right way to soothe a kid on a daily basis.

But right now this boy needs to be spoiled.  
He needs to forget his pain, forget the fear, forget all the sorrow.  
Mari breaks off a piece of the chocolate and holds it up to Sam's lips.  
“There, it'll make the pain go away”, he says over Sam's labored sobs.

Sam looks at him.

He looks at him, with eyes that scream for help. With an expression that just… stabs you in the heart with the feeling, that he's all alone in this world.  
With nobody to protect him.

I look at Mari.

I see his tears spilled.

I swallow hard.

Finally Sam opens his mouth and lets Mari feed him the chocolate. Mari turns his face away, busying himself with the left over chocolate. Wrapping it up again to put it back on the shelf.  
“There, now. It's good right?”, he asks, and I can hear him smile. He smiles for Sam.

I turn off the stove and take out a spoon to try our dinner. It's fried potatoes with vegetables, tofu and chicken.  
I add some salt, caraway and coriander. I had planned to add some chili powder too, but if we're going to feed this to Sam too, I should avoid the hot spice.

There's a scream and a yell.

Mari covers Sam's ear with his free hand. He knows it's too late. Sam already heard. He knows his one hand won't block out the sounds.  
I can tell he's desperate.

I move in closer to them.  
“Sam”, I say, making my voice as soft and gentle as possible.  
The boy looks up at me.  
I smile.  
“Would you like to have dinner with us?”, I ask.

He looks confused.  
I nod towards the stove and I almost laugh, when I see him realize, that he's been smelling the food all this time without noticing.  
He drools.

Mari laughs softly and nuzzles the top of Sam's head.  
“That's a yes?”, he asks, earing the first smile we've ever seen from Sam.  
A real smile.

Mari hurriedly wipes at the corner of his eye, laughing still. 

I take out three plates. Two big ones, and one small plate. It's a plate we'd usually use for desserts, but it's the smallest kind of plate we own.  
We've never needed small dishes for kids.

Mari turned Sam around in his arms, letting him observe me, while I put the hot food on the plates.  
“Is that okay?”, I ask, indicating Sam's plate.  
Sam nods eagerly.  
I smile.

We go to the table and take our seats. Only Mari lets Sam sit on his lap.  
We don't have a high chair for him, and he's too small; he wouldn't be able to eat if he sat on a chair normally.

I was just about to sit, when I remember something.  
“Ah, wait. Would you like to have hot chocolate? We'll have coffee, but you can't have that”, I say, indicating the cups on the table. Mari's and mine.

Sam looks at me, unsure for a moment.  
“We have juice too”, Mari says when Sam remains silent.  
The boy shakes his head.  
“h-hot… choco…”, he mumbles, looking at me with pleading eyes.

I melt.  
“Okay”, I say and go back to the kitchen.  
I turn my back on them as I prepare the hot chocolate.

I can hear Mari coo at Sam while he feeds him carefully.

Sam is probably old enough to eat on his own, I think. But I know Mari's being extra gentle and caring with him.

I sigh.

When Robin and Tobi adopted their son, Mari was so hesitant. Unwilling to even hold or touch the child.

I know it's not because he hates children.  
I know he's scared.

He's scared to hurt them, scared they might cry.

But with Sam, I see his demeanor change entirely.

He acts. He functions.  
For the boy's sake.

_Mari

Luca comes back to the table with Sam's hot chocolate, smiling at him when his eyes light up again.

Honestly, I'm still shaken up.

Not only from seeing him at our doorstep, bruise forming on his face, but also from when he started crying in my arms, from when he smiled.

It scared me.

When he suddenly started crying. As soon as I held him.

Only when he smiled at us, I understood.  
He didn't cry, because I hurt him. He didn't cry because he was scared of me or anything like that. He cried because he felt safe.  
He cried, because he wasn't scared.

I'm not good with children.

They scare me.  
No, they don't.  
I don't trust myself with them.

Children depend on any adult that offers them support. Obviously they'll ultimately choose their parents, the ones who care for and support them the most; but even a stranger, who helps them can become someone they depend on.  
And that's scary.

It's a role, it's a responsibility I wasn't able to shoulder. Until now.

When Sam first stood at our door, visibly terrified I knelt without thinking. All I wanted, was for him to stop crying, to stop shaking.

It broke my heart.  
The boy reached for me, a total stranger, in hopes of being saved, when he had just left his parents behind.  
Any other child would cry for 'Mommy' or 'Daddy' but he silently cried for someone, anyone to save him.

I couldn't turn him away. I couldn't send him back.  
I cradled him helplessly.

That's when Luca came.

Sam shifts in my lap, calling me back from my memories to the present.  
He was eating on his own, while I helped him here and there.

I look down at him.  
He looks uncomfortable.  
“What's wrong?”, I ask. His eyes snap up to me. He chews his lip.

“Need to pee?”, Luca asks and earns a nod.

I should have known, I think to myself. But Luca acts faster. He takes the boy from me and carries him to the bathroom.  
“You eat, Mari!”, he calls as he leaves.

Oh.

I haven't touched my own food.

Still it's way too easy for me to just forget about it. I guess I don't feel hunger like most people would.  
Sure, I do feel hunger. I feel appetite.

But sometimes that just… fades. Something else moves into the foreground of my mind.

It's not like in the past.  
When I couldn't eat, because I felt just so depressed; so guilty for enjoying anything, when I felt like I was hurting those I loved.  
Those who loved me.

I brush away the thoughts and pick up some food before Luca can return with Sam and scold me for not eating.  
It's delicious as always.  
Luca is such a good cook… I smile to myself, chewing on some chicken.

Sure, I helped with this. But he added the finishing touches. And the recipe is his. Well… he orders me around in the kitchen.  
As he likes to put it jokingly, I'm his kitchen-slave.

Luca returns.  
It takes me a moment to realize that Sam walks on his own. Luca follows him, close enough to catch him should he fall.

He doesn't fall though and reaches me.  
I pick him up and sit him on my lap again.

Luca nods approvingly at me.  
I smile at him.

By now I feel like the yelling next doors has died down. I let Sam continue with his meal.  
If they come to take him back now, at least I'll know for sure, that he had some good food; and hot chocolate.

I take a sip from my own cup. The café au lait has gone cold already. Not that I mind it.  
I feel a headache creep up on me though.

Luca finishes his plate and looks at me.  
“Come here, Sam. Lets let Mari have his dinner properly”, he says, reaching for Sam.  
The boy looks up at me, then at Luca.  
“Don't worry, it's alright”, Luca says and takes Sam, sitting him on his own lap and pulls his plate towards himself with his free hand.  
Sam looks scared.

I smile at him.  
“It's okay, Sam”, I say. How often has this child been blamed for things that weren't his fault at all?

I eat.  
It still tastes good. Of course it does.  
Luca talks to Sam about this and that. About our jobs, how we teach people, how we help them. How we'll help him when he needs us too.

I drink more of my coffee, feeling myself grow more tired. Ah, damn it. 

Luca glances at his watch, worry flashing across his face for a second. I raise an eyebrow.  
“What's wrong?”, I ask.  
“It's late”, he says.

Right. He's right.  
How much time has passed since Sam came here? How long has it been since things went quiet next doors?

We can't stay up waiting if they don't show up on their own.  
We have work tomorrow. 

What should we do?  
Knock at their door and bring Sam back?  
It feels wrong to even think about this.  
I so dearly hope, that they're not coming back for him yet, because they understand that their fighting hurts him, because they want to set things straight and make things right again.  
I so dearly hope for it.

Luca seems to mirror my feelings. He strokes Sam's hair.  
The boy is tired too.

“I'll stay on the couch with him”, he says and reaches out towards me. I look at him just in time for his hand to touch my cheek.  
He smiles at me lovingly.  
“You're tired”, he says.

I lean into the touch, eyes closing on their own.  
“Mh… you too” I murmur.  
“I'm fine”, he says.

I look at him again and stand up.  
I haven't finished my meal, but I really can't stay up any longer. I feel Luca's gaze on my back as I carry the plate to the kitchen.  
“I'll finish it tomorrow, okay?”, I say and put it in the fridge.  
“Fine”, he says and stands up with Sam in his arms, careful not to move him as he seems to be on the brink of sleep.

I walk out of the living room when I hear pounding on our door.

I feel anger boil up within me.

I ignored it while he was here, I ignored it when I looked at him.  
I ignored it, so he wouldn't feel bad.

But I did not forget.

I turn on my heel.  
Luca walks out of the living room, but instead of opening the door, he lays the sleeping child in my arms.

I hold him and look at him.  
It's gotten darker.  
The bruise.

Luca opens the door.

“Finally!”, Sam's father barks at Luca and tries to push past him. I take a step back.  
Luca holds him back.  
“Oh no, you've got some explaining to do”, he says, crossing his arms.

Sam's father is silent, looking at Luca, dumbfounded.  
“What…?”

My grasp on Sam tightens slightly. I'm careful not to hurt him, but also, I feel the need to cradle him against my chest, to protect him.

How can this man, Sam's father not feel this need to protect a child? His own child?  
“The bruise on Sam's face!”, Luca points out, shoving the man back a bit, so he's not standing in our doorway.  
I get the feeling that Luca is ready to shut the door in the man's face if he doesn't show any remorse.  
“That's none of your business, faggot!”, the man barks, waking up Sam in my arms.  
I turn Sam away from this man who's supposedly his father.

The man moves past Luca, fist raised.  
I can't tell if he's aiming for Sam or for me. I instinctively turn away, ready to take the blow as I can't shield myself with my arms, holding Sam like this.

Luca saves me.  
“Out!”, he yells, “Out, and don't you _dare_ raise your fist against my brother!”  
Sam cries.

I'm trembling, holding onto Sam.

Luca still has his arm extended like a barrier between Sam's father and me.  
I can only shake my head.

“How… can you...” I whisper. I clear my throat. Sam's father looks at me, fists itching to punch something, or someone.  
“How can you call yourself a father…?”, I ask.

“He's my goddamned son, and now hand him over!”

“No!”, I cry out, when the man tries to reach past Luca again.  
I must protect this child if nobody else does it. Luca and I.

Sam's father looks at me in disbelief.  
He shakes his head and punches our door, causing it to hit the wall loudly as he yells something that sounds like a curse.  
“THEN KEEP HIM!”, he yells, grabbing Luca's collar.

I call out Luca's name in fear. 

“Keep the fucking kid, if you know so much better. Keep him, faggots!”  
With that Sam's father shoves Luca back and leaves.

He doesn't go back to his apartment, but down the stairs.

Luca shuts the door and turns towards me, taking the screaming boy from me, holding him with one arm, reaching for my face with the other.  
“He didn't hurt you, did he?”, he asks, looking me in the eyes.  
I shake my head, unable to speak.

If I let out my voice now, I'll scream; I'll cry.

Luca cradles Sam.  
“Shhh, it's over now. He's gone. You're safe. I'm so sorry, Sam. I'm sorry. It's okay...”  
His voice trembles. His hands do too.

I want to reach out to him when I notice that I'm gonna fall. I manage to catch myself, pressing my hands against the wall behind me as I slide to the floor.

Luca turns towards me.  
“Mari!”  
He kneels in front of me, and his shock startled Sam enough to stop crying. The boy seems to be just as shocked as Luca, staring at me wide eyed.

I hold my breath and close my eyes for a moment.  
5 – 6 – 7 – 8 – breathe.

My breath evens out and I open my eyes again. Luca is still in front of me, stroking my hair.  
“Mari...” he calls softly. He's shaking.  
I raise my hand and stroke his cheek, before doing the same with Sam.  
“It's okay. I just lost my balance for a second. I'll be just fine once I sleep”, I say and try to stand up.  
“No, stay put, Mari”, Luca says, grabbing my shoulder.  
I look at him.

Luca looks at Sam.  
“Can you do me a big, big favor?”, he asks, forcing a gentle smile.  
Sam chews his fingers and nods.

“Go to the living room and choose a pillow. One that you like, okay? And bring it here”, he says. I look at him, wondering what he's trying to do.

Sam nods once more. Luca sets him down and lets him walk to the living room on his own. Once Sam's out of sight he turns to me again.  
“We're not taking any chances now. Put your arms around my neck”, he says and I can't even put up a fight.  
Luca wraps his arms around me and stands up slowly.

For a few seconds I lean heavily on him, until I can trust my legs to carry me.  
“Sorry”, I whisper.  
He shuts me up with a quick kiss.

Even though I can stand on my own now, he keeps my right arm around his shoulder, holding me by my hip with his left arm.

Sam comes back, holding a pillow in his arms.  
Luca smiles at him.  
“Good boy”, he says and nudges me.  
I reach down, offering Sam my hand to hold onto.

“We'll go to bed now”, Luca says as he starts walking, effectively taking me and Sam with him.  
I look at him.

He wants Sam to sleep with us?

He keeps going until we reach our bedroom door and leads me towards the bed.  
“Lie down, I'll do the rest”, he says softly.

I let go of Sam's hand and lie down.  
I move further onto the bed so there's space for Luca and Sam, pressing my back against the blanket that's bunched up against the wall again.  
Usually Luca sleeps on this side of the bed, but this time we'll just switch places.

Luca sits Sam on the bed and puts the pillow that Sam chose between ours.  
“Is this ok?”, he asks, looking at Sam.  
Sam nods, chewing his fingers again.  
“We just don't have a better place for you to sleep than this”, he says. I realize he's right.

I'm not sure if it'd be safe for him to sleep on the couch, where he could fall, if he moved around in his sleep too much.  
So it's better to have him sleep between our bodies.

Sam crawls towards the pillow he chose.  
“Okay” he says and flops down on it.  
Luca smiles weakly.

“Good. If you're cold, snuggle up to Mari. I'll be there in a moment”, he says and leaves the bedroom.

Sam stares at me.

“M-m… Mari… ok?”, he asks. I nod.

Sam's stuttering concerns me. His speech was better when he first came here, if I remember correctly. Could it be, that the trauma caused him to stutter?  
Or is it something else entirely?

I stop breathing for a second when I hear Luca speak.  
Once I understand he's talking over the phone I relax again and stroke Sam's head.

Luca called the school. I can hear him say the headmaster's name; and I can hear him say mine.

I close my eyes and relax more. My head hurts.

I hear the light switch click off and I hear Luca's soft footsteps approaching the bedroom door.  
“Luca”, I say softly.  
He comes in and sits on the bed.  
“Yes?”  
“Could you bring me an ibuprofen?”, I ask.  
He nods.  
“Of course”

He leaves again.

When he comes back he's got a glass of water and two pills in his hand.  
For some reason medication isn't very effective on us. Paracetamol doesn't work for us at all, and ibuprofen we have to use in relatively high doses; nothing dangerous, of course, but still, a bit higher than a 'normal' person would.

I thank him and swallow the pills, draining the glass entirely.  
He runs his fingers through my hair and takes off his shirt.

I had already changed and started preparing dinner when Sam knocked. Luca hadn't had the chance to change.

I look at Sam, who's barely awake anymore. I reach behind myself and pull the blanket over myself and over Sam.  
Then I look back at Luca. He changes out of his jeans and into his pyjama pants. I realize I still have my sweatpants on, but I couldn't care less.  
I know I'll be overheating in the morning, but by then I can change out of them.

I can't move now.

Luca lies down finally and I pull the blanket over him too.  
He shifts a little until he's comfortable and looks at Sam, before pushing himself up.  
I look at him.  
He holds himself up with one arm and leans over Sam, kissing my forehead.  
“You're warm”, he whispers and kisses my lips.

He lingers for a few seconds and then pulls away, laying down on his side, facing Sam and me.

I lay on my side too, facing Sam and him.  
He moves a bit closer to us, careful not to wake up Sam and grabs my hand.

I let out a sigh and close my eyes.

My chest feels tight, my head feels heavy, my eyes burn.

_Luca

I wake up relatively early.

During the night Sam actually snuggled up to Mari, who instinctively cradled him in his sleep. I smile slightly and lean over them.  
Mari looks better than yesterday.  
But his cheeks are wet.

He cried.

I bend down and kiss him.  
It takes a while for him to kiss me back, for him to wake up.  
I pull away.  
“Mh...” he turns his head to the side. I run my hand through his hair.

“Mari”, I say softly, “I'll prepare breakfast. I contacted the school yesterday. You just stay here and rest with Sam. I'll hurry back. Call me if anything happens”, I tell him.

He looks at me, blinking a few times.  
“You'll take my pupils?”, he asks and licks his lips.  
I nod.

“Buy rice and eggs”, he says as I'm about to get up. I look back at him.  
“Okay”, I say and stand up, stretching my back before going to get dressed.

_Mari

I watch Luca get dressed, instinctively memorizing what he chose to wear – a dark turqoise shirt and light gray pants – and turn towards Sam once he turns his eyes to me.  
“Still watching me, whenever I turn my back on you, huh?”, he teases and smirks when I can't help but smile to myself.  
“Don't worry, I stare too”, he says and blows me a kiss.

My cheeks heat up.

I look back down at Sam.  
Looking at him like this I could almost forget how sad he is.

He's cute; unguarded and relaxed.  
I brush my hair behind my ear and get up, careful not to disturb him.  
He clings to the blanket and I make sure to bundle him up in it.

Luca puts on some jewelry today.  
Leather cuff and a ring.  
“Will you be okay?”, he asks and puts his hands on my hips, pulling me close.  
“Yeah… I guess”, I say, sounding unsure.

Honestly, I _am_ unsure.

I'm scared.

Alone with Sam.  
I hope his mother will come and take him. I hope she'll be sober, and I hope she'll get out of that place, I hope she'll bring him to safety.  
I hope.

Luca nudges my nose with his and kisses me softly.  
“Love you”, he says and lets me go.

I look after him as he leaves the bedroom, not closing the door behind himself.

In the past he would have stayed with me. When we were children.

In the past I wouldn't leave him.

I look at Sam.

He's still sleeping, sucking on his thumb. He looks lonely.  
He probably _is_ lonely.  
I've never seen him play outside with another child.

I sit on the bed and yawn.  
My limbs feel heavy and I decide to lie back down, curling around the boy on the bed. I can't lift up the blanket now, so I'll just stay like this.

I'm out within minutes.

I only wake up, when I feel hands pushing at me.  
“M-ma… Mari…!”, a child's voice…  
I open my eyes.  
Sam is pushing against my shoulder, trying to wake me.  
“Sam, what's wrong?”

He's got tears in his eyes.  
“… pee”, he says and I nod.  
“Alright, don't worry”, I say and pick him up.  
He whines.

I carry him to the bathroom swiftly, helping him take off his pants and sit him on the toilet seat, holding onto him.  
He looks scared.

“Nothing happened, everything's okay”, I say, slurring my words slightly. I swallow and lick my lips.  
How long did we sleep?

 

I carry Sam back to the bedroom and sit him on the bed while I get dressed.

I pull out a turqoise shirt from my half of the wardrobe and put it on, before pulling out a light gray pair of pants.  
I push up the sleeves of the shirt and make sure my underwear doesn't show above my pants. I know many gay people like to let the band of their underwear peek out, but I've never been like that. Underwear belongs _under_ your clothes.  
The only exception in my mind are bras. They're often cute, with decoration or something like that. When bra straps show under a shirt or something, I think that's sexy.

Well… as sexy as I could find a girl's body.

I'd like to put different clothes on Sam too, but I don't have anything for him.  
An idea flashes through my mind and I don't know if it's good or bad. I could call mom and ask her, if she still has some of Luca's and my clothes from when we were kids.  
I decide not to do it though. I'd have to explain everything, and honestly, it's not like Sam's gonna stay here for that long.

I look at the clock on the nightstand.  
Luca left about six hours ago.  
Wow… how did I sleep that long?!

And Sam too… 

I look at him and hold out my hand to him.  
“Lets have breakfast”, I say to him and smile. He takes my hand – more like my finger – and lets himself be led out of the bedroom to the living room.

Luca left food for us, so I don't even have to bother preparing anything.  
I sit on my chair and lift the plate up that Luca put over the food so it doesn't dry out.  
He was lazy, I see.  
He made some yakisoba with tofu. Well, I'm not going to complain. Though I don't think this is suitable food for a child.  
So I _will_ have to make something for Sam.

I stand back up and carry Sam to the kitchen.  
“Now, lets see. What should I make for you, hm?”, I ask and sit him on the kitchen counter. He looks at me.  
“Do you like eggs?”, I ask.  
He tilts his head to the side and starts chewing his fingers.  
I decide to take the risk and pat his head briefly.  
“Sit here, okay? Don't move away”, I tell him. I'm pretty sure he'll stay where he is, even if I don't tell him, but I'd rather be safe than sorry.

He nods.  
“Good boy”  
He looks at me, still chewing his fingers and makes a sound that almost sounds like a laugh. I stare at him in wonder for a few seconds.  
He laughed…?

I smile and open the fridge, taking out the last two eggs. I can see him watch me carefully while I wash the eggs and take out a bowl, break the eggs and grab a fork to stir them.  
From the corner of my eye I see him move and I reach out for him before I can think. He wasn't in danger at all, but my heart is beating like I just caught him, falling from a cliff.  
The fork falls with a metallic clatter and he flinches.  
I take a deep breath.  
“Sorry, I startled you”, I say and stroke his hair before he can cry. He looks at me, then down at my hand on his chest.  
I take it away and bend down to pick up the fork.  
I smile at him.  
“Nothing happened. It's all fine”, I say and wash the fork. He looks at me, like he's seeing something unbelievable.

I decide not to think about it too deeply, afraid I might show a bad reaction if I do.

The bruise on his face still stands out; still screams at me, how he's been hurt.  
Luca saved us yesterday.

I go back to stirring the eggs and add oats, stirring them in and set the bowl aside. Still, Sam is watching me.  
I take out a medium sized pan and put it on the stove.  
“Now, don't come near here, it's hot. You don't want to hurt yourself”, I say and point at the stove.  
He stares for a moment, then nods slowly.

I then take the butter from the fridge and cut off a small piece and put it in the pan to let it melt.  
While I wait I take a pepper from the pantry and cut it into small squares. I offer a bigger slice of the pepper to Sam to nibble on and he happily takes it.

The pan is hot by now, so I pour in the egg and put the bowl into the sink, filling it with water to wash it out later.

I think I saw Sam flinch when the egg hit the pan, sizzling quite loudly, but as there's nothing dangerous happening, I don't mind it.  
Once most of the egg has simmered I toss in the pepper and turn down the heat.

With a clean fork I pick up some of the egg and try it.  
Yeah, it's good. Needs spice though.  
I let Sam try some of it too.

He scrunches up his face, but swallows and goes back to gnawing on his pepper.  
“Salt?” I ask him. He looks at me.  
I put a bit of salt in the pan and stir the food again.  
This would be good, but it can be better.  
I know Luca's tricks.  
So I take out some coriander, nutmeg and rosemary. I add the spices to the eggs and stir them once more.  
Sam watches in awe.  
I let him try it again, and this time his face lights up.  
“Like it?”, I ask, earning a nod.

I take out a plate and put the scrambled eggs on it. I then put down the plate and pick up Sam, balancing him on one arm, so I can carry the plate with my free hand.  
Like this I go back to the living room, just now realizing that my yakisoba probably dried out after all.  
Ah, damn it.  
But what does it matter, I'll eat it anyways.

And also, there's still yesterday's dinner. I'll just have that if I get hungry during the day, I think to myself, knowing that it's highly unlikely.

I sit on my chair and put down Sam's plate. He grabs the fork that I offer to him and eagerly stabs a piece of the egg.  
I decide that he's doing a good enough job for me to let him eat unsupervised and get some food down myself.

Luca would be pissed if I didn't eat the yakisoba at least.  
I don't get to think any further, as I hear the front door being unlocked.

“I'm home!”, Luca calls softly.  
“Welcome back”, I call back and turn my head towards other end of the living room. Luca takes off his shoes and walks into the living room.  
Oh.  
I realize what I did this morning.

He does so too and laughs at me.  
“Can't shake old habits, huh”, he says and stands behind my chair, resting his hands on my shoulders.  
“Hello, Sam”, he says, when Sam looks up at him. Sam makes a sound and goes back to attacking his food.

Luca smiles at that and then turns his eyes back to me, frowning.  
“When did you get up?”, he asks.  
“Around… 2 pm”, I say.  
He checks his phone.  
“And you still haven't eaten at all?”, he asks. I shake my head.  
“I was just about to eat, when you came”, I say and he sighs.  
“Okay”  
He carefully takes Sam's plate and pulls it towards his own seat, picks up Sam and sits him on his lap.  
“Now you can eat and Mari can eat too”, he says, when Sam shoots him a questioning look.  
I smile slightly and go back to eating my dry, cold yakisoba.

“How was today?”, I ask. Luca nods quickly.  
“Mh, it was quite okay. My pupils didn't have much trouble, so it wasn't a problem to take care of yours too”, he says.  
I nod.  
“Okay, thanks”  
“Don't mention it. Focus on your food”, Luca says and checks his phone again, this time typing something on it.

“James says he and Lilly will visit us at the bar today”, he says.  
I stop eating.  
Right. We've got a shift at the bar tonight.  
“What about Sam?”, I ask.  
Luca looks at me.

He hesitates before he opens his mouth, but even after that he remains silent.

It's been about thirteen hours since anyone asked for Sam. And that was his father, who left after… I swallow hard.

Luca saved us.

I look at him, and he mirrors my thoughts.  
Sam's mother should be sober by now, she should be awake by now, shouldn't she?

I feel nausea creep up my throat before the thought even formed in my mind.

“She's at home”, Luca says.  
I look up.  
“I knocked on her door before I came home, but she yelled at me to go away”, he says and swallows dryly before adding: “She was drunk”

I didn't hear her at all. I was probably so focused on Sam, on my thoughts…  
“Mari, eat please”, Luca says and reaches for me, cradling my face in his hand, touching my lips with his thumb.  
I feel my throat constrict briefly.  
“Hey, it's okay. I'm here, Mari”, he calls softly and looks me in the eyes.

I look at him.

“But tonight...” I choke out.  
“We'll find a way, don't worry”, Luca assures me and releases me, running his hand through Sam's hair now.  
Sam looks at him insecurely.  
Luca squeezes him gently.  
“Eat up. Mari prepared it just for you”, he says and nods, when Sam hesitantly stabs a pepper and holds it up to his mouth.  
Encouraged he puts it in his mouth and chews it slowly.

I decide to try and eat some more, while I feel Luca's gaze on me.  
Suddenly I miss Sam's weight on my lap, his warmth against my body.  
I look at the boy who's contently eating his peppers.

I'm being irrational. I continue eating.

“Did you drink anything yet?”, Luca asks me. He's too observant.  
“No… not yet. Didn't think of it”, I admit.  
He sighs.  
“Go and grab us some juice then, please”, he says.

I nod and stand up. I let my hand linger on his shoulder as walk past him to the kitchen.  
In the kitchen I crouch in front of the six pack of juice bottles, take out a bottle and grab three glasses for us.  
I set the glasses down on the table and pour in the red juice.  
Luca slides one glass – the fullest one – over the table to where my plate is. The other he takes for himself and offers the third to Sam.  
Sam eyes the juice sceptically, but doesn't protest when Luca lets him try to take a sip from the glass.

I gulp down about half of my glass' contents before going back to my noodles.

“Ah, damn”, Luca hisses and sets down an empty glass. I immediately look at him. I see Sam tearing up, his shirt drenched in red juice.  
I reach out to him and stroke his good cheek.  
“Hey, it's okay. We can just wash it out”, I say and stand, picking Sam up, careful not to get juice on myself.  
“Don't worry, Mari. I need to change anyways. I'll help Sam”, Luca says and stands up, juice dripping from his pants.  
“Okay. I'll wipe this up then”, I say and hand Sam over to Luca.

Sam sobs and shakes his head.  
My hands linger. I come closer to him and Luca.  
“You're safe here. Nobody is angry at you”, I say and cradle Sam's face, carefully avoiding the bruise on his cheek.

It does nothing to soothe Sam's fear, as it seems.  
The boy sobs, starting to cry once I pull away my hand.

Luca looks at me for a second and then leaves, talking to Sam as he walks.

I have completely lost my appetite.

Mutely I walk to the kitchen, grab a paper towel and go back to the chair to wipe up the spilled juice.

I kneel and wipe away what's dripped on the floor when a thought comes back to me.  
I reach for Luca's phone on the table and pull up his contacts, looking for one in particular.  
Once I've found it I hit call and press the phone to my ear.

“Yes?”, she says softly.  
“Mom, I've got a question”, I say straight away. I hear her chuckle.  
“Slow down, Luca-” I interrupt her, “I'm Mari. I stole Luca's phone”  
“Bad boy, Mari”, our mother says, smile audible in her voice.  
“Mom, do you still have Luca's and my clothes? From when we were about one or two years old?”, I ask.  
She's silent.  
“Why do you ask?”, she wonders and starts walking, as I can hear from her footsteps.  
“I'll explain another time. Now I just need some of them”, I say.  
“Uhm… yeah, okay. I still have some of them, I'd have to look for them though. When do you need them?”  
I look up at the doorway, before answering.  
“As soon as possible.”  
“Mari, you didn't get a girl pregnant, did you?”  
I actually manage to laugh.  
“No… no, I couldn't. Don't worry”, I say and run a hand through my hair.  
“How about you come over and pick out what you need, hm?”, she suggests.  
“Y-yeah… I guess. Okay.”  
She sighs.  
“Be sure to explain soon, okay? Don't worry your old lady like that”, she then says and goes silent.  
“I will, mom. I will, I promise”, I say and lower my head slightly.  
“See you soon”, she says and makes a kissing sound.  
I do the same and end the call.

When I look up from the screen, I see Luca standing in the doorway with a teary Sam in his arms. Neither of them wearing a shirt.  
Luca just wearing a pair of sweatpants. Maybe the one I wore tonight.

He smiles at me.  
“Mom?”, he asks. I nod.  
“Yeah. I'll go to her quickly and see if she still has some of our clothes, that might fit Sam”, I say. Luca nods.  
“I heard you”, he says.  
I lower my head, smiling faintly.  
He comes closer.  
“Just go. I'll look after Sam in the mean time. Call me when you're on your way back, okay?”, he says and reaches into the pocket of the sweatpants.  
Out he pulls my phone and gives it to me.  
I smile a bit wider.  
“Thanks”, I say and look at him, lingering where I am.  
He cradles Sam's head and kisses me softly.  
“Don't let me wait, okay?”, he says.

I kiss him once more and walk past him to the hallway. Quickly I put on a pair of shoes and grab my keys. I close the door behind myself and throw a brief glance over to the door behind which Sam's mother is.

_Luca

Sam and I flinch when my phone rings.  
Quickly I grab it and take the call.  
“Luca”, Mari calls, voice soft.  
“Yes, are you on your way?”, I ask and ruffle Sam's hair.  
“Yeah. I've got some stuff that might fit Sam”, he says and I hear him unchain his bike.  
“Good. I'll wash him then”, I say.  
“How?”, Mari asks.  
“I'll find a way, don't you worry. Come home.”

I hear him smile.  
“Okay.”  
“Good. Love you.”  
“Love you too.”  
He ends the call.

I look at Sam.  
“Now then, let's get you cleaned up”, I say and get up from the couch. Sam tilts his head to the side.  
I laugh.

I carry him to the bathroom and look around.  
The shower isn't adequate, I decide. At least not if I use it as usual. I take the shower head down and kneel on the floor of the shower.  
It should be enough space in here for me to kneel and have Sam sit on the floor.  
Happy with my plan I take out a clean towel and lay it on the floor in front of the shower – we don't have a carpet in here.  
“Sam, stand here”, I say and set him down on the towel. He stands there and looks at me questioningly.  
I smile.  
I take off the shirt I put on while Mari was gone and slide out of the sweatpants.  
My underwear I'll leave on.  
I feel like this is awkward enough as it is.

I then take off Sam's pants and underwear, relieved to see there are no more bruises hidden under the clothes.

Already when I took off his shirt earlier I was so glad that I wasn't uncovering any more bruises on his chest.

I step into the shower and kneel, making sure I won't slip when I lean out of the shower to pick up Sam and sit him in the shower with me.  
As I close the curtain I look at Sam with a little smile.  
“Now then, let's see how this works out”, I say and turn on the water, making sure not to hit him with the cold stream.  
Sam shrieks, but doesn't show any signs of discomfort.

Once the water has gotten warmer I wet my hand and touch his arm with it.  
“Is this ok?”, I ask, earning a nod.  
“Good”, I say and aim the stream at him, carefully avoiding his face.

It's uncomfortable to be sitting here in wet underwear, but otherwise things work out really well.  
I grab Mari's and my body wash and carefully rub it into Sam's skin.  
Sam looks at me suspiciously as I wash him, probably put off by the fruity but also clearly soapy scent of the body wash.

Mari and I have never been into the classic men's products. They smell so… sharp. Like the stuff you smear on your chest when you've got a cold.

There's a soft knock on the bathroom door, before Mari enters, holding a bag in his hand.  
“Hey you two”, he says just loud enough for us to hear it over the sound of the water.  
Sam looks up at Mari and turns back towards me.  
Mari smiles weakly.

He grabs the shirt that I soaked in the sink and checks the size.

I can't tell from here if he's happy or not with what he finds, but he starts pulling out tiny clothes that used to be his and mine.

I think I recognize some pieces.

 

Soon Sam is dry and clothed.  
Mari smiles, holding the boy in his arms.

I just changed into my uniform and dry underwear obviously.  
Mari looks at me.  
“If mom saw him, she'd have a flashback”, he jokes. I smile at him.

“What do we do now, though?”, I ask.  
Mari shrugs.  
“I'll tell James and Lilly to not come to the bar, that's for sure”, I decide.  
He lowers his head in thought.  
“Tell them to come here instead?”, he suggests hesitantly.  
I shrug.

“They'll ask questions”, I say.  
“And I'll answer them”, he says. I sigh.  
“Do you think it's a good idea?”, I ask him and touch his hand. He adjusts his grasp on Sam and grabs my hand.  
“Maybe they have an idea?”, he says hopefully.  
I squeeze his hand.

Sam in his arms yawns.  
Just now I realize that a child of his age would probably nap during the day.

Mari releases my hand and puts his hand over Sam's head gently.  
“I don't have time. I need to go. I'll explain. You call James and Lilly, okay?”, I say and start walking towards the door.  
Mari follows.

“Sorry… Luca-” he calls after me and stops abruptly once I turn back towards him.  
“Yes?”  
He looks at me.  
I lay my hand against his cheek and press a soft kiss onto his lips, lingering just long enough to see him close his eyes.

_Mari

I prepare hot chocolate for Sam, letting him sit on the kitchen counter again, while I re-heat yesterday's dinner and the yakisoba.  
It won't be amazing, but it'll be edible, I hope.

I'll make something proper for James and Lilly and for Sam later.

That reminds me, they should arrive soon.  
I did call them and told them the gist of what's going on right now.

Sam seemed happy enough with his hot chocolate right now, and now that he was hiding the bruise behind the rim of the cup, I could almost forget it's existence.  
Almost.  
But not quite.

The mere fact that he was here, the mere fact that he wasn't in his home with his _family_ reminded me, that things were wrong.

I touch my shoulder.  
Sam's father hadn't hit me. He didn't even brush me or Sam.  
Still, I had felt like I avoided death. Okay, maybe I'm being overly dramatic. But in a way, it felt like that.  
If not for me, then for Sam.

Luca saved us.

I realize how I cling to this thought, this fact, to calm myself; and somehow I hope, that Sam can cling to it too.  
That Luca really did save us both, and not just me.

The doorbell rings and I smile at Sam. I pick him up, letting him hold onto the cup, as it's only half full now, and the danger of spilling it with a careless movement is low.

With the boy on my hip, one arm securely around him I walk to the door and open it.

I can tell that Lilly was going to pounce me by the way she jerks and freezes once she sees the child in my arms.  
James looks at Sam.  
“Don't stare, guys. Come in. I'll prepare something for you if you watch over Sam for me”, I say and walk back to the kitchen, sitting Sam on the counter again to stir my 'dinner'.

Lilly took off her shoes and followed me to the kitchen.

Having Sam safely perched on the counter I turn towards her, ready for her attack.  
She wraps her slender arms around me and squeezes me as tightly as she dares.  
I pat her head.  
“I missed you too, now let go, my food will burn”, I say and once she lets me go I turn back to the stove and turn it off.

James enters the kitchen soon after and I notice him avoiding Sam's face with his eyes.

I told them.  
I told them to expect this, but seeing it in person sure is different.

It's what's made me feel sick time and again, whenever I look at Sam.  
Of course I can't show it.  
Of course I can't let the boy see it.  
I turn towards Sam, deciding that if the adults can't overcome themselves, the boy will show them how to do it.  
Because I know the child can smile, because I know he can laugh; despite everything.

“Look, Sam. These are friends of Luca and me”, I say, smiling.  
Sam holds out the cup towards me and I take it from him, seeing it's empty.  
“Good boy”, I say and set it aside, “Look, the big guy is James. He's like a big teddy bear”, I say and my heart flutters when I see Sam smile, “and the beautiful girl is Lilly.”  
Lilly blushes and shakes her head fondly.

“Don't listen to Mari, I'm not beautiful”, she said, but I shut her up.  
“Yes, Lilly. You are”, I say softly, letting my eyes linger on Sam for a moment. She follows my gaze and her expression softens.

I know she was just being modest. But somehow it felt wrong.  
I mean, I do think that she's beautiful. She's got light and thin hair, that sways with every move she makes. She's got large cat eyes, an even and straight nose, and rosy lips, that curl into a smile right now.  
She comes closer to Sam now and looks at him.  
Sam stares back at her.

He visibly tries to withdraw when she raises her right hand. The bruise is on Sam's left cheek, result of a right-handed blow. I grab her hand before she can touch him.  
“She's nice, Sam”, I say and guide her hand to his head, so she can run her slender fingers through his hair.  
Sam looks at me, allowing the touch now.

My resolve falters.

I invited them. I invited strangers to meet a scared and traumatized child.

Sam reaches for me and I give him my hand, so he can wrap his tiny fingers around my index finger. He looks at me.  
I smile.

I'm a stranger too and he trusts me. It's as if he wanted to tell me exactly that with his little gesture.

 

Hours later Sam is sleeping. I put him in Luca's and my bed, practically building a wall around him with our pillows to make sure, he won't move too much.

Lilly, James and I are sitting in the living room, drinking juice.  
“Man, there we were, hoping to get wasted tonight, but nope. Juice it is. And babysitting”, James mutters, taking a sip from his juice.  
“You agreed to come here after I told you everything, and you know Luca and I don't have alcohol in here”, I say and look at the doorway.  
Lilly sighs.  
“At least now I got to see the kid that managed to separate the inseparable twins”, James says and sets down his glass.  
“Nonsense, James. Luca and I have parted ways for lesser issues” - “And always found each other, I know”, Lilly adds.  
She sits next to me and rests her head against my shoulder.  
“What will you do though?”, she asks and looks up at me, not moving her head from my shoulder. Half a thought flashes through my mind, but I ignore it for now.

“I wonder”, I murmur, “well, the idea is to look after him, until his mother gets her act together.”  
“And when will that be?”  
“How would I know, Lilly?”, I counter.  
She hides her face against my shoulder and sighs.

James crosses his legs.  
“What about the authorities?”, he asks.  
I nod.  
“We wanted to. We were going to inform them, but somehow… this happened”, I answer. I didn't tell them about Sam's father's attempted attack on us.

“What about your parents?”, James asks then, “Wasn't Sam wearing stuff that used to be yours?”, he adds when I shoot him a questioning look.

“Ah, yeah. I asked mom to give them to me”, I say, avoiding the question.  
I feel like a child, that's trying to hide a mistake from it's parents.  
“You haven't told her though”, James says, understanding still.

I shake my head.  
“I haven't. I will. I promised her”, I say quickly.

Lilly shifts so that she can look at me now, our eyes on the same level.  
“There's more, isn't there? Something that stops you”, she says.  
Damn it. Damn them all. All our friends who've learned far too well how to read us. How to read me.

Damn the time of my depression, damn the time when I was easy to read like an open book.

Lilly withdraws.  
“Sorry”, she says and sips her juice.

I feel my anger from last night boil up again.  
My hands curl into fists, clutching the fabric of my sleeves.  
“Mari?”, James asks and before I can stop myself my fist crashes down on my own knee.

“He tried to beat us, okay?”, I spit out and lower my head.  
Shit.

The throbbing pain in my knee takes my mind off the seething anger within me.  
“Who?”  
“Sam's father”  
“What?!”

I look up at James.  
“I told you how he showed up last night, telling Luca and me to keep Sam here for now?”, I start, staring at my clenched fists.  
“Yeah, you did”, James agrees and crosses his arms, leaning back on the couch.  
“It wasn't exactly true”, I admit, and continue talking, before James can say anything, “In fact, he came to get Sam back, but the way he behaved we couldn't trust him to keep Sam safe. We couldn't hand him back. Especially since Sam already had the bruise then, as I said. It just… wasn't right. Then he snapped and tried to throw a punch at Sam”, I bite my lip, “or me.”  
Lilly slaps a hand over her mouth in shock.

James stares.

“Luca stopped him before he could touch Sam or me”, I say to calm our friends.

“But of course you didn't hand Sam over after that, and turned him away?”, James tries after I remain silent for a while.  
“N-no. Not exactly. He yelled at us to keep him, if we know so much better”, and he insulted us; but I don't mention that.  
The insult doesn't matter.

“He then just… left. He didn't go home, but away.”

Uncomfortable silence remains in the wake of my words.

No one dares to say anything.

“M-mari…!”

I jump, almost spilling my juice.  
“I'll be right back”, I say and set it on the coffee table, running to the bedroom, where I find Sam, trying to climb down from the bed.  
“Careful”, I say and help him.  
“pee”, he just says and I nod understandingly.

I once again notice how good he is at this. Well, maybe we were just lucky, but he hasn't peed himself once during the time that he stayed here.  
Isn't he too young to be this well disciplined?

Then again, he's not like other children.

_Luca

It's exhausting to say the least.  
Working for Mari and myself.

I'm not about to complain though. I know well, that Mari is struggling too. Keeping Sam safe and happy.

I got a text from Lilly, who told me that she and James arrived at our place, and that was it.

I wonder what's going on at home.

I wonder if Sam is still with them.

I'll find out soon.

I stop the bike and get off, to open the door of the bike shed. I see Mari's bike standing in it's usual space and so I leave my bike next to it. Usually Mari would be standing by my side right now.

I lock the shed and go up the stairs to the second floor, where our apartment is. I look at the door next to ours.

Should I knock?

I sigh and stand in front of the door, my chest feeling tight.  
I knock.

Silence.  
I knock again.  
“Get LOST, GET LOST! DICKHEAD!”  
I take a step back.  
“DIE!”

Is she mistaking me for her husband…?  
In any case, she's in no condition to be caring for a child.

Our door opens and Mari stands in the doorway.

“Hey”, I say softly.  
He looks at the door in front of which I'm standing.  
“Still… no good”, he says, lowering his head.

I shake my head and walk up to him, embracing him as I enter the hallway.  
I half-notice that Mari closes the door behind us, before our lips touch.

His hands clutch the back of my vest. I shove my left under his shirt, grabbing him by his hair with the right, holding him closer.

Ah, I missed him.  
I missed the small touches, the small glances that usually accompany me wherever I go.

“Hold it, right there, perverts”, I hear James' voice and reluctantly pull away from Mari.  
“Good evening to you too”, I say and smile.  
Mari hides his face against the crook of my neck.  
It was an exhausting evening for him, I can tell.

“So, I see you're still not tired of this”, James murmurs, “of each other.”  
I shake my head.  
“Nope.”  
“Damn”, Lilly curses, jokingly.  
I laugh.

“Just you wait, I'll steal him away one day and make him forget you even existed!”, she says and pokes me.  
I shake my head at her.

Mari does the same.  
“As if”, he says and leads me to the living room.  
“There's dinner left over for you”, he says and drags me to the table.

“Did you eat?”, I ask.

“Yeah”, he says and flashes me a smile.  
I nod.

He made a nice soup, I see.  
It smells really good.  
“I don't have your skill, but it's edible. Neither Lilly nor James have died after eating it, so I think it's safe”, he says, setting down the plate in front of me.

I laugh.  
“Maybe it's a slow working poison?”, I ask.  
“Well, then I'll just die with you”, he says and smiles.

“Oh Romeo, wherefore art thou Romeo… I don't know the rest”, Lilly says and tries to take a dramatic pose.

“Is that the poison messing with your mind?”, I ask.

Mari laughs softly and shakes his head.  
“Eat”, he says and squeezes my shoulder.  
“Where's Sam?”, I ask, just now realizing that he's nowhere to be seen.  
“Sleeping”, Mari says.

I nod.

Lilly comes closer to us and nudges Mari, who didn't leave my side. With a bit of confusion written over his face he steps away from me.  
Lilly hugs me tightly.  
“Well done”, she says.

I raise one eyebrow.  
“You did good, keeping my Mari safe”, she says and pets my head like you would with a good pet.  
I swallow hard.

I know she was trying to keep the mood light. To let me know that she's aware of what happened. I shake her off and shake my head.  
“Sorry”, she says, realizing.

 

As much as we love these guys, it's always a sort of intrusion on our private time. It's hard to describe.  
They remind us to appreciate the lonely moments between us. The moments when it's only him and me.

Lilly and James left. We're going to bed soon.

Looking out the window, long after the two went out of our sight. Mari rests his back against my chest, while my hands are intertwined over his stomach and my chin rests on his shoulder.  
“Mari-”  
“No!”  
“Okay.”  
I stay where I am, I don't move. 

I can tell he's been holding back his anger. I can tell he's doing all he can to calm down again.  
“How…”  
I tighten my embrace.  
“Yes?”  
“How did… how could…” he stops and shakes his head. He isn't over it. After one day, he isn't over it yet.  
I shift from one foot to the other and turn him around in my arms, so I can look him in the eyes.  
“I don't know, Mari. I don't know. I doubt even he knew.” Mari lowers his head.  
“He was hurt too. Most people who hurt others were hurt themselves”, he says against my shoulder.  
I nod.  
“Yeah. Not all are strong and overcome it. Not all have others to rely on. Not all have others to protect”, I murmur into his hair.  
I take a deep breath, smelling his familiar scent.  
“He has someone to protect. He has a wife, he has a son. He should… fight”, he whimpers and clings to me.  
I can only hold him, let him work it out.  
He shakes his head.  
“I have you. You protected Sam and me, but who'd protect Sam!? It's not fair. He's a child, he's…”  
I cradle his face and make him look at me.  
“Mari, shhh… now...” I murmur and brush his hair from his face, that's usually hiding his right eye.  
“You saved Sam this time. You protected him”, I say.

He shakes his head.  
“Not enough”  
I sigh.  
“You hurt, just like I do, whenever you see the bruise”, he says and grits his teeth. I lower my head this time, unable to say anything anymore.  
It's true.

We ignore it for Sam's sake. We don't want to remind him of the pain, we don't want him to recall the fear; but we never forget it.  
Whenever we look at him, it screams at us, the abuse he went through.

I feel like I'm beginning to understand why Mari is so emotional about this; aside from the obvious fact, that a child was hit.

He couldn't say _no_ , when Sam first stood at our doorstep.  
He couldn't turn him away and ever look in a mirror again, knowing that he failed in protecting a child.  
So he let him in; so he held him when he cried.

He was the one who made the decision in that very moment, and now that decision is starting to haunt him.

He got us into something, that he hadn't anticipated.  
Something, that neither of us have any idea of how to deal with.

And we can't just stop doing this. We can't just say 'okay, that's it, we're done playing heroes, now go and live your life'.  
There is no such option, unless we want to hate ourselves.  
What would happen, if we were to inform the authorities?  
They'd probably put the father in jail or something like that. They'd send the mother to rehab and Sam…?  
He'd end up in a random foster family, and the state would be done with his case.

Would that really be right? Would it really be okay?

I don't have an answer.

And I doubt I'll get one now.  
Mari sighs and hugs me, nuzzling my neck as he hides his face against it. I hold him and rub his back. I can feel him relax.  
“Let's go to bed”, I murmur and he nods without letting me go.

I decide to do something I haven't done in quite a while and pull away from him.  
I can tell by the way his eyes widen once I smile that he's seen through it, yet he lets it happen.  
I pick him up like a princess and carry him to our bedroom, stopping at the light switch so he can tap it with his free hand.

Once we're in bed, Sam securely nestled between us, I look at Mari, who absentmindedly strokes Sam's head.

In my dream, I think I remember seeing Mari's hand, moving back and forth, his fingers running through short, sand-colored hair.  
For a second I feel set back in time, I hear Mari whisper _Robin_ even though I can't see either of them.

I lie in water, face just above the surface, the darkness of the sky dyeing the ocean black.  
I hear nothing but the dull murmurs of the waves lapping at my body.  
A heavy knot settles in my stomach…

I feel cold hands, caressing my body, but I don't see these hands, I don't see the body that they belong to.

A weight presses down on my legs, but I don't sink in the water. It doesn't even look like water. When a pale hand emerges from the blackness around me, sliding up my leg, the water clings to it like oil or ink.

I'm startled for a second, but once the second hand appears from the water, and a dark head is raised above the water, I feel myself relaxing.  
The two hands travel further up my body, leaving black smears on my body.  
The black hair looks like ink pouring from the person's head.

The cold strands tickle my skin, sending shivers down my spine. The quick thumping of my heartbeat sounds way too loud in my ears.  
Wet lips kiss my stomach. Wet lips kiss my hip. Wet lips kiss me… 

_Mari

I wake up when I feel something move next to me.  
I blink slowly, seeing Sam still sleeping soundly by my side. I blink a few more times, seeing Luca leave the bedroom in a hurry.

For a moment I'm tempted to stay in bed. To just let him take care of himself and wait for him to come back.  
But in the end I do get up and follow him to the bathroom.

I find him leaning against the wall next to the faucet, his face turned away from the mirror.  
I close the door behind myself and walk up to him.

“You should have stayed in bed”, he murmurs. I shake my head.  
“Shush”, I whisper and kiss him, letting my hand wander from his chest down to his pants. He kisses me back, engaging me in a fight for dominance.  
I stroke him through the fabric of his pyjama bottoms. I submit to him, as he holds onto my head, fingers digging slightly into my nape, deepening the kiss.

I tug his pants down and struggle to break the kiss.  
“Lu… ca…”, I manage to gasp and pull away, just to kiss his bare chest, lowering myself to my knees slowly.  
He chokes.  
“Mari”

I look up at him.  
“You don't have to-”  
I cut him off.  
“I never had to. And I still did it, time and time again.”

Luca smiles at me. I stroke him with my right hand, while brushing back my hair with my left.  
“Look at me”, he says and I lift my gaze.  
He takes a deep breath and runs his fingers through my hair.  
I breathe against his tip, almost touching but not yet.  
Slowly I lick my lips, still stroking him, feeling him harden more under my hand.

He stares at me.

I open my mouth slightly, just enough to put an open-mouthed kiss on his tip.  
Through the gap between my lips I slide my tongue to tease his slit, before I open my mouth fully, saliva accumulated on my tongue.  
Slowly I take his length into my mouth, holding onto his hips with both hands now.

Gently Luca half-grabs; half-strokes my hair.

In all honesty, I’m not really good at this.  
I don’t particularly like it either.

But I do very much love Luca.

I utter no complaint when he tugs on my hair and spills in my mouth.

_Luca

I bite my wrist when I cum, remembering in the back of my mind, that Sam is still asleep in the bedroom.  
But fuck… I _love_ Mari. I love watching him, how he looks up at me, I love seeing him brush away his own long heavy hair, I love feeling his lips on me.  
I run my fingers through his hair soothingly. I think I pulled it when I came.  
He licks his lips and wipes his mouth on the back of his hand.  
“Sorry”, I murmur, but he’s on his feet, kissing me to shut me up before I can say anything else.

When he pulls away, looking at me I can only smile.  
He’s so beautiful.  
I pull up my pants and see him smirk.

I cradle the back of his head, running my fingers through his hair again. His hair is silky and heavy, and it reminds me of the oily ink from my dream.

“I love your hair”, I murmur.  
He giggles.  
“Narcissist much?”  
“I said _your_ hair, not mine”, I defend myself. He rolls his eyes.  
“News flash: We’re twins. We have the same hair”, he reminds me.  
I shake my head.

“Just be good and thank me with a kiss”, I order and pull him in for the kiss. He pretends to struggle, beating my chest. I know he doesn’t mean it, since I’d be black and blue within moments, if he’d meant it.

Within moments he’s melting, wrapping his arms around my neck as I rub his lower back.

Suddenly he lets out a strangled yelp and looses his balance, falling against me. I catch him and look around for whatever startled him.

Clinging to the fabric of Mari’s pyjama pants is a little boy with fluffed up hair.  
He tears up already, about to cry when Mari lets out a laugh, picking up the kid.  
“Good morning, Sam”, he says, cutting off the boy’s wails.

I stroke Sam’s head and smile at him.  
“Did you sleep well?” I ask.  
Sam stares.

“M- Mari was… gone...” he murmurs, sounding like he’s struggling with the words.  
Mari plants a kiss on Sam’s forehead.  
I feel ashamed when I remember what those lips were doing just moments ago.

Sam seems to pick up on the unspoken awkwardness between us.

He looks at me, as though in need of affirmation.  
“Lu- L- Luca”, he manages to stammer and leans closer to me, holding onto Mari still; grabbing some of Mari’s hair in fact.  
Mari shows no signs of discomfort, but the child shrieks when he realizes, that he pulled on Mari’s hair.

We usually keep our hair tied up somehow, but right now, Mari’s hair is beautifully messy.

This time, Mari’s soothing smile isn’t enough. This time the boy can’t be calmed by that.  
He cries.  
His tears are burning hot, his screams pierce our ears in wordless accusation. Mari cradles him, hugging the child tightly against his warm chest, shaking as though they were both freezing cold.

Waking up alone probably scared him. Startling Mari and me probably scared him. Pulling Mari’s hair probably scared him.  
Even seeing us kiss… maybe scared him.

Maybe.

 

Mari sat down on the bed, rocking Sam back and forth gently, humming to him, stroking his back, but the boy wouldn’t calm down.  
I guess he reached his limit.  
This is how much he can endure… being away from his family – even if they hurt him – for so long, waking up alone, not knowing what to do, whom to trust, where to go; being scared.

I see Mari wipe his tears with his wrist, realizing how my own vision is blurred.  
Shit… no.

My tears haven’t fallen yet. I haven’t lost it yet.  
I can still protect them both somehow.

I kneel in front of them, hugging both.  
“Sam”, I start. He doesn’t react. I shift and sit next to Mari now, putting my arm around my brother’s back, while I stroke Sam’s hair with my free hand.  
“Sam, listen to me”, I say softly, waiting for his breath to run out. And in that moment, before he can let out another wail, I speak again, “I want you to listen, okay? Listen and show me, you understand, okay? Can you do that for me?”  
Sam whimpers, tears still running down his cheeks, soaking into the collar of his shirt.  
I keep stroking his head, while Mari holds his breath; fingertips brushing Sam’s cheek ever so carefully.  
“Mari and I are only trying to help you. You know that, right?”, I say, earning another sob.  
“But as much as we want to help, we can’t do everything right. We will make mistakes”, I continue. I don’t know where I’m going with this, but I feel, like it’s gonna help. Being honest, being open with him, I hope, will help.

“But we try our best, right?”

Finally the child stills and looks at me.  
“Tell me, what do you want?”, I ask, “What do you wish for”

He doesn’t say anything. He just looks at me for a moment, before hiding his face against Mari’s chest and sobbing silently.  
But it seems, he’s calming down, even if he isn’t done crying.

Mari looks at me with teary eyes and forms a mute ‘Thank you’. I kiss his cheek, lingering for a while with my lips pressed against his warm skin.

 

Finally Sam falls asleep.

He exhausted himself before the day even began. Now Mari is laying on the couch in the living room, the sleeping boy resting on his chest.  
Sam wouldn’t let got of Mari, and Mari didn’t have the heart to free himself from the child’s grasp.  
I make breakfast while Mari is waiting on the couch. As I stand here in the kitchen, I find myself giving in to the nagging thoughts, that I’ve pushed aside earlier.

I still don’t know what I was trying to do with the things I said. If I was only trying to get him to stop crying, or if I was actually trying to make a difference.  
I don’t even know, if it would have reached the child, even if I’d had an idea of where I was going with my words.  
I feel, like whatever I could have done, it wouldn’t have been the right thing in the end. Because I’m just a stranger. Because I’m not his father.  
Even if, to most people, it would be a good thing not to be that person, to Sam it makes a difference. And it reminds him of the fact, that he’s not with his parents. That his parents aren’t protecting him like they should.  
That he’s here, in a stranger’s place, with strangers taking care of him, when his parents don’t.

I cut up the last banana and toss it into the bowl. I decided on cereals and oats today. To make it more sweet and tasty I added yogurt and fruits.  
I put the bowl onto the tray, next to the two cups of coffee and bring it to the living room.

There’s only one bowl, but that doesn’t matter. Mari and I can share. It’s gonna be easier like this. I’ll feed him, while he’s holding onto Sam.

I can’t help but smile when I see Mari.  
How he’s holding onto the boy on his chest so carefully. Sam wouldn’t fall, even if Mari didn’t hold onto him, but Mari still won’t remove his hands from Sam’s back.

This is the same person, as the one who avoided touching Will, who was eager to be held by Mari.  
This is the same person, as the one who’d always look away with a pained expression, whenever a child cried in his presence.

I hadn’t allowed myself to really think about it, but it’s a matter of fact.

Mari shielded Sam with his own body, that night. When Sam’s father showed up.  
Anyone who’d seen him interact – or rather not interact – with children in the past, would never have expected him to act this way.  
But I know him.  
I know him better than anyone.

I set down the tray on the coffee table and carefully sit down next to Mari.

I pick up the bowl and grab the spoon I’d left in it, getting some oats and fruit on it and offer it to Mari.  
He opens his mouth obediently, and I feed him carefully.

_Mari

Before long Sam opens his eyes and tries to sit up on my chest. I smile at him. He seems to be better now.  
Earlier he felt really hot, and I was worried, he might be developing a fever, but his temperature evened out by now.  
“M-Ma...ri”, he whispers and looks at me.  
I caress his good cheek and carefully sit up.  
Luca, who’s sitting next to me with our breakfast bowl smiles and holds out a hand to me.  
I take it, holding Sam tightly against my chest with my other hand, as I let myself be pulled up into a sitting position.

Sam shifts on my lap, turning around to look at Luca. Luca pets Sam’s head and earns a smile from the boy.

I feel myself relax fully. Finally he smiled.  
I was worried.

Worried, that Luca and I just wouldn’t be enough to protect and save Sam. That no matter what we’d do, we’d always be lacking.  
And honestly, I’m still worried.

It’s hard to tell, what made Sam cry; it’s clear, that neither my comfort, nor Luca’s words were enough to calm him down.

Luca holds up the spoon for me and I let him feed me. He then offers a smaller portion to Sam.  
Sam looks at him in confusion at first, but opens his mouth, when Luca nudges his lips with the spoon.  
“There. Do you like this?”, he asks and licks the yogurt off the spoon, that Sam couldn’t get into his mouth.  
Sam nods.  
“Good, then I’ll make some for you too”, Luca says and sets down the bowl on the coffee table, “Sam, can you make sure that Mari eats some more, while I’m in the kitchen?”, he asks, grinning at Sam.  
Sam tilts his head.

Luca pays it no mind and leaves.

I grab the spoon from the bowl and eat a little, offering fruit to Sam every now and then. He mumbles contently.  
When Luca comes back, he laughs.

“I leave you alone for a moment…” he says, smile audible in his voice.  
I chuckle.  
“I couldn’t say no to these eyes”, I say and fluff up Sam’s hair.

Luca sits on the couch again and picks up Sam, to sit him on his own lap.  
“There you go”, he says and hands the small bowl to the boy.  
Sam holds it with both hands and throws a questioning glance at me, then at Luca.  
“Eat”, Luca says and holds out the spoon to Sam.  
Sam grabs it and again, throws us questioning glances.

I wonder what’s made him so insecure today.  
He’s eaten here already, he should know, that we offer him food, and that we allow him to eat on his own.  
So why is he so unsure?

Logically there’s only one real answer, and that would be, that it wasn’t the norm for him, to be offered food like this on a regular basis.  
But that’s not possible.  
When he came here, he wasn’t underweight, he wasn’t starving.

I nibble on some oats, while I watch Sam and Luca.

Luca carefully wipes away the yogurt, that got onto Sam’s cheek. Sam doesn’t seem to notice him, eagerly eating his breakfast.  
Fruits, huh?  
Sam seems to like them a lot, I note. Well, I suppose, most kids probably like fruits.

I brush away Luca's hair, so it doesn’t fall in Sam’s face.

He looks at me and smiles lovingly.  
“Lets get our hair cut”, I say suddenly.

His eyes widen and he opens his mouth, but doesn’t say anything.  
I giggle.  
“How about getting it cut short. For a change”, I add, when he remains silent.

He swallows.  
“U-uh… sure… what did you have in mind?”, he asks. I shrug.  
“I don’t know. We could just ask the hairdresser for their opinion and see if we like it”, I answer.

Sam seems to like the idea. He bounces on Luca’s lap and mumbles.

“What would we do with him though?”, Luca asks.  
“We take him with us”, I say, naturally.  
“But...” 

Luca cuts himself off.  
Don’t mention the bruise.

I smile at Sam and ask him, what he thinks.  
“Would we look good with short hair?”, I ask.  
Sam carefully reaches out with his hand, and I can’t help myself but notice just how tiny his hands are.  
I lower my head, and let him pat the top of my head. 

“This”, Sam says, holding up my fringe, so it doesn’t fall into my face, “like this”, he says.  
I laugh.  
“You don’t want the hair to be in our faces?”, I ask.  
Sam nods.

_Luca

So now I’m sitting in a chair, a black cape covering my body and a pair of scissors snipping behind me.

I look at the mirror; more like, I look at Mari in the mirror, who’s holding onto Sam.

The hairdresser clipped back the top of my hair and eagerly cutting away the hair at my nape. I keep seeing more strands of damp hair falling to the ground.  
It’s been a long, long time since we last changed our hairstyles in any way.  
Until we were sixteen we used to have short-ish hair. Honestly, our hairdo was pretty uninspired.  
At some point we decided to part our hair and let it grow out.  
Ever since we’ve had our hair around shoulder length, with our trademark fringe. When we were twenty-one we did allow our hair to grow _really_ long, but that was a one-time-thing.

And now, here we are.

The hairdresser, who knows us well – we’ve come here to get our hair cut since we got out of school – sure was surprised, when we told him about our plan.  
But after the first hesitation was gone, he eagerly suggested haircuts to us, that would make us look more stylish and dynamic and young.

It took a few minutes and some decisive babbling from Sam to decide on a certain haircut.  
We’d still keep our fringe and part our hair as we used to, it would all just be way shorter. Especially in the back and at our napes.

From the corner of my eye I see Sam wiggle out of Mari’s arms and walk around on his own.  
Mari tears his eyes away from me, from the transformation happening on my head, to watch over Sam.  
“That child though”, the hairdresser starts, “he’s not yours, right?” He looks at me with an incredulous expression and wide eyes.  
I laugh.  
“Nah, he isn’t”, I answer.  
“Phew”  
He pretends to wipe some sweat from his brow. I raise an eyebrow questioningly.  
“The world is safe…” he explains, snipping away at my hair.  
“What’s that supposed to mean?”, I ask.  
He cackles.  
“It means, that you’d either ruin your kids, or make them into crazy villains!”, he says.

I grind my teeth.  
“I’d insult you… but I’m afraid you’d fuck up my hair if I did… so...” I mutter.  
He giggles.  
“I’m just pulling your leg, dear. You’d be a good parent. Both of you, actually… each in his own way”, he says, smiling still.

“Nah… You’ve never seen me with a child”, Mari says, kneeling next to Sam now.  
The hairdresser bursts out laughing.

“Dude! I AM seeing you with a child right now!”

“Sam is different”, Mari says, blushing. I cover my mouth, holding back my own laughter.  
Sam tilts his head to the side, looking at Mari with a question mark practically floating above his head.  
I can’t…  
I laugh too.

Mari turns towards Sam, ignoring us.  
“Sam is calm and sweet”, he says and strokes Sam’s hair.

My laughter dies.  
I’m glad, that neither the hairdresser nor Mari seem to pick up on it though.  
After another 10 minutes or so I’m done.  
I look into the mirror, checking out my new hairstyle.  
Weirdly, I feel like I look more mature now, even though it was supposed to make me look younger.

Mari approaches me and raises one hand, tempted to run his fingers through my hair.  
“Don’t… you’ll have hairs all over your hand”, I say and catch his hand.  
He looks at me.

“It’s uncomfortable, huh? For you two to not look exactly the same”, the hairdresser asks, washing his hands.  
Mari nods.

I smile slightly.

Mari’s gaze snaps down, when Sam tugs on his hand.  
“Mari”, he says and raises his hands.  
With a smile Mari bends down and picks him up.  
“Look. Does Luca look good now?”, Mari asks Sam. Sam eyes me for a few moments and then nods.  
I smile.  
“Good, then it’s okay for Mari to get his hair cut too, right?”, I ask and hold out my arms for Sam.  
Sam nods and looks at Mari.  
Mari smiles and hands the boy over to me.

“Be careful, okay? Luca still has some hairs on him, so don’t touch his hair yet”, Mari adds as he sits on the chair now.  
I sit on the free chair next to him and let Sam bounce on my lap.  
Sam seems to enjoy himself.

The hairdresser wets Mari’s hair, like he did with mine and starts clipping it up in sections. Just as he grabs the scissors, I get an idea.  
“Wait!”, I say.  
“Don’t tell me you changed your mind!”, the hairdresser whines.  
“No… I just wanted to ask you, to cut off a strand, for us to keep”, I explain.  
His expression brightens.  
“Ah, yes! Wait a sec!”, he says and runs off.

“Damn”, Mari murmurs.  
“Hm?”, I raise an eyebrow.  
“I should have thought of this myself”, he says, “I should have asked to keep a strand of your hair too”  
I smile.  
“Well… it's too late now”

Our hairdresser returns with some scotch tape.  
“There!”, he says cheerfully and grabs a strand of Mari's hair. “Is this one good?”, he asks, holding it so I can see.  
“Yeah”, I say.  
He wraps the tape around the strand and cuts it off.

“There you go”, he says and hands me the strand.  
I take it.  
“Thank you”

Sam looks at the strand, carefully nudging my hand.  
“C-can I have?”, Sam asks.  
“Sure. Be sure to hold it tightly, okay?”, I say and put the strand into his hands. He holds it and eyes it carefully.

 

This evening we both take a shower. Together.  
We put Sam to sleep. And after this day, he's sufficiently exhausted to sleep for a while.

Right now I'm carefully finger-combing through Mari's hair to get rid of the hairs that remained after cutting them.  
He squeezes his eyes shut to protect them from the shampoo and water. I don't need to see his face to know this. I can tell by the way his shoulders are tense, by the way he has his head slightly tilted forward.

More foam and water trickle down his back, following the curves of his shoulder blades, his spine, his muscles down to his loins and ass, further down along his legs, to his feet.

We might be twins, even so our bodies are unique.  
My strength, the tiny scars from our childhood, the way I move… they're all different from him.

If I'm a rock, then he's the ocean, lapping at my edges, breaking his waves, time and time again, while dulling my sharp angles.

I feel my own lips curl into a smirk, as I think about my metaphor. How poetic I've become.

Wasn't there a time, when I was oblivious to his anguish? Wasn't there a time, when I had no idea at all?  
Wasn't there a time, when I was fine just being his brother, just standing by his side?

I was so blind back then.

Ironic, that he is now standing here like this. His eyes closed, his back turned on me.

I rinse out the shampoo from his hair, making sure to keep his face wet, so he won't open his eyes. Once the foam is gone, I press my lips to his nape, sucking on his skin. It tastes like water and soap, but I don't mind.

He gasps. His hands jerk slightly, as though he was going to pull away from me, but he doesn't make such a move.  
He stands still, his hands still in the air, fingers curling into fists.

I keep sucking on his skin, scraping my teeth across it every now and then, licking the red spot and sucking more.  
He lets me have my way, lowering his hands.

I catch his hands, intertwining our fingers; slowly I wrap our arms around his body, pulling him closer to myself.

My skin tingles where his back presses against me.  
Satisfied with the deep red mark on his nape I move on, gently nibbling and biting on his shoulders and neck, leaving more marks as I go.

He's silent.  
Not entirely, but he could be more vocal than this.  
Nothing but soft panting leaves his lips.

I know he couldn't let out his voice right now, with the child sleeping in the other room. Still, I'm eager to draw moans from his lips.

I grind my member between his ass cheeks, releasing his hands to clutch his hips instead.

He runs his hands over his face, craning his neck to look back at me.  
“Happy yet?”, he asks, licking his wet lips.

“Not yet”, I reply and tighten my grasp on him, pushing him down ever so slightly, so I can kiss his lips.

Sometimes I wish he was smaller than me. It would make many things easier. But then again, I couldn't imagine a world where my twin wasn't my equal.

He rolls his hips, runs his fingers over my hands. I break the kiss and turn him around, trapping him between the wall and my own body to kiss him again.  
Yeah… it's good that we're the same size. I can kiss him whenever I want.

He runs his hands over my chest, while I lick his lips, tasting sweet water on them. He opens his lips and the water pouring down on us suddenly feels cold, compared to the heat of his mouth. I nudge his tongue, sucking on his lips, seeking more… he gasps before my lips seal his again.  
My knee is between his legs, his fingers tracing the shape of my chest.

“Down.”

He follows. I know he would have followed my lead, even if I hadn't said a word. Still, I like talking to him. I like seeing him listen, I like hearing him reply.

His legs drape over mine, without him or me even trying. His arms wrap around my neck, my hands find his hips, his lips find mine.

I grope his ass. We have no lube here but that doesn't stop us.

We don't need it.

I don't need to _fuck_ him. Just feeling him squeeze me, just feeling his heat, seeing him shudder, hearing him moan is enough.

My fingers enter him easily by now. Our shy fumbling has long since been updated to a perfectly choreographed harmony.

With two fingers I spread him, he guides my tip as he lowers himself. Once I'm in, I withdraw my fingers, letting him take the lead.  
He grits his teeth, stroking himself as he takes me further inside.

It isn't pleasant.  
He's tight, he's dry. But that won't stop us.

I kiss his cheeks, his jaw, his neck; I follow the contours of his collarbones, further down to his sternum.  
He shudders.

“Luca...”  
“Yes, Mari”  
“More”  
“Yes...”  
He moans.

I replace his hand with my own, stroking him now, while my other hand finds his nipples. I can't suck on his nipples without breaking my back, so I instead suck on his neck, leaving more marks on him.

“I'm yours, Luca”, he reminds me, running his hands through my hair. He blinks and laughs. I can feel his laughter throughout his entire body. I huff.  
“I know you are”, I say and kiss his lips.

He claws at my back, rolls his hips as he returns my kiss. He moans into the kiss.  
I give a soft thrust.

Pressure and friction. Heat and wetness. Pain and pleasure.

He breaks the kiss, letting out a low, drawn out moan.  
I shift, pulling him with my by his hips, so he lies flat on the small space of the shower, making sure the water doesn't hit his face.  
He crosses his arms over his eyes. I push his legs up against his chest and start thrusting.

My cock doesn't slide in and out of him, my thrusts only impact his hips, as my body collides with his.  
It's probably the most intense I'd ever dare to be with him. I know well, that if I tried to actually fuck him with more force than this, he'd tear.  
So I keep an eye on him, trusting gently but not weakly.

Soon he pushes his hands against the wall behind his head, teeth clenched, body trembling. I feel myself throb inside him. He's so damn tight…  
My stomach feels tight, my muscles burning with exertion.

I'm close.

I pull him up into my arms, letting him ride me, while I bite down on his neck.

I've always been a biter. So many times he's worn the marks of my teeth on his neck, shoulders and elsewhere, and every time it made my member twitch with the knowledge, that it was me. That he's mine; that the traces of our actions turn him on just as much, as they do me.

Time and time again I've heard his cries, time and time again they got me into this state, time and time again I came inside him.  
Now, with my cum inside him, the motion changes and my length slides easily in and out of him.  
Slowly the fog lifts around my head, and I begin to feel again.  
I notice his silent huffs, realizing how he bit down on his own arm to muffle himself. His nails left stinging marks on my back.  
I jerk him off, kissing his neck and chest until he clenches around me.

I take a deep breath and focus on letting it out through my mouth, as he trembles in my arms.  
His entire body tensed up, his legs squeezing my sides, his arms securely wrapped around my neck, his tight ass getting even tighter.

Gently I stroke his back, trace his spine with my fingertips while he calms down.

He huffs.  
“You're bleeding a bit”, he pants, still hiding his face against my shoulder.  
“You'll patch me up”, I say and keep stroking his back, “Can you get up?”  
“Yeah”

He pushes himself up, holding onto my shoulders as I slip out of him. He stands like this for a few breaths, bent over with trembling knees as my semen flows down between his thighs.  
I look at him.

He fully straightens his back now and leans against the cold wall behind him.

I stand up and let my face get wet for a moment, before I run my hands over my face to clear my eyes again.  
He watches me.

_Mari

We stand in front of the bathroom mirror. My hips touch the faucet. Luca rests his chin on my shoulder and watches my reflection.

I'm applying some cream to my face. The red spots on it, to be precise.  
For the longest time Luca and I have had dry skin. Sometimes it gets worse, and on such occasions we use this cream.

That's only half the reason why I'm in front of this mirror though.

I looked at myself for another reason. Only when Luca pointed it out to me, did I notice the red patches on my face.  
What my eyes were drawn to, were the marks he'd left on me.

I'm quite certain that his last bite will leave a bruise. The hickeys stand out much more right now.

I've never tried to hide them.  
Not when we were still in school, nor later. Sure, there are environments where such marks are better covered up, but aside from these occasions I wouldn't hide them.

In the past, people assumed they were marks from fights.

Seeing the nail streaks on Luca's back, shoulders and arms led them to believe, that we fought a lot outside of school.

Even teachers worried.

'If your brother is hurting you, you should tell your parents, or ask somebody else for help!'

I silently glared at them and cut them off, before they could say any more.

I'd touch the marks, when nobody was looking. I didn't need to look in a mirror to know where they were. Memories of the previous night flooding my mind…

Luca kisses my nape.

I look at his reflection in the mirror.

Right… I'll need to cover up these marks.

“Let me go. I'll look at your back”, I murmur and put away the cream I'd used on my face just now. Luca turns his back on me. I trace the streaks carefully.

Only two of them actually broke the skin, I notice.  
“Don't worry about it. It's fine”, Luca says and turns around again to look at me.  
“Be more careful next time, Luca”, I murmur.  
“Sam?”  
“Sam.”  
“I know. Sorry”

I smile.  
“Don't be.”

_Sam

Her hand is warm in mine. Her sandy blond hair shimmers under the sun. Her dress flutters with each of her steps. Cheerful and sweet.  
I smile at her.

“What are they like?”, she asks, tugging on my hand as we walk down the street.

This street, I've walked down so many times.  
The street that leads to my home.

I look at her.  
“I told you, they're kind”, I say.

“Yeah, yeah…”, she pouts.  
I smile.

My parents, more like my caretakers, my guardians are at home today. It's their free day. Before leaving for school I'd asked them, if I could bring my girlfriend.

They said yes.  
Of course they did.

Today at school I asked Miya if she wanted to come to my home today. She said yes.

It's the last day of school, before the summer vacation. 

My guardians have always made sure to be free on this day. When I was younger, they'd take me to the swimming pool, or out for a picnic.  
As a reward for another good school year and good grades.

Though they still rewarded me, even when my grades dropped a bit.

I look at Miya.  
Her shoulder-length hair sways, framing her face.

I'm sure they'll like her. I'm sure she'll like them.

The two men, who raised me since I was a toddler. They are not my birth parents. Obviously not. Neither of them.

They are brothers.  
Twins.

I know Miya has a brother too. An older brother. His name is Rico, she said.

“They are brothers”, I blurt out, looking at my home. The apartment building where I've lived all my life.  
There, on the second floor, the first door. That's home.

Miya raises her eyebrow questioningly.  
“My parents. Guardians”, I add.  
“You're adopted?”  
“No”

They never officially adopted me. But they raised me. I was too young back then, but I know, that my birth parents weren't able to raise me.

Mari and Luca saved me when I was a child. Before long I'd gotten attached to _them_ , more than my parents.  
My father… screwed off somewhere. Nobody knows where he is now.  
My mother… she went to rehab. When I was seven or eight years old, she got out and knocked on our door.

I don't think I remembered her back then.  
She was just a woman, who'd take care of me.

Back then, Mari and Luca worked less than they used to, because one of them had to care for me after school. When she showed up, she'd babysit me, so Mari and Luca could both work again.

When I grew up and was old enough to stay at home alone, she stopped coming that often. She still visits every once in a while, but honestly, I can't really feel much attachment to her.

It's sad, I guess.

I don't know whether I feel sorry for her, or for myself; maybe both.

“But?”, Miya asks.  
“But they raised me instead of my parents”, I answer.  
She lowers her head and stops.

I stop as well and look at her. I want to run my fingers through her hair, but I don't dare.  
“What's with your parents?”  
“Don't worry”, I say and gather some courage. I gently lift her chin with my index finger, “my father is… gone. My mother is better now. But you won't meet either of them today”  
She looks at me.  
“It's okay, right?”, I ask. Suddenly my throat feels dry.

“Yeah. If you're happy”, she says finally and starts walking again. She grabs my hand and squeezes it.  
I smile.

“We're almost there”, I say and step through the gate. She follows and looks at the apartment building.

I lead her to the staircase and walk up to the second floor. As I walk, I pull out the key from my pocket and stop.  
She looks at me.

“Are you nervous?”, she asks and strokes my cheek.  
I blush.  
Yes. Yes damn, I'm super nervous.

“A little”, I admit.  
She smiles.  
“You'll still like me, even if you don't get along with them, right?”, I ask before I can stop myself.

She giggles.  
“I'll get along with them”, she says and hugs me. “And now open the door, it's not nice to keep a lady waiting”  
I wrap my arms around her and kiss her cheek.  
“Thanks”

I take a breath and unlock the door.

I've stood in front of this door so many times. This is where everything began.  
According to the stories that Mari and Luca told me, I was two years old when I knocked on their door.

I have no memories of that night. My earliest memory though, took place in the hallway that awaits us past this door.

I remember the terrifying face of a man. His fist flying towards me, but it never hits me. I'm shielded by a strong body, warm hands cradling me.  
I smile.

Time and time again I stood at this door. With Mari, with Luca, with both of them and alone. And today I stand here with Miya.

I unlock the door and enter.  
“Mari! Luca! We're home!” I call and take off my shoes.  
Miya follows and does the same.

A person shows up, leaning against the door frame of the living room.  
“Welcome back, Sam”, he says and looks at Miya, “You must be Miya”  
“Yes”, she says and reaches out her hand towards him.  
He takes it and smiles.  
“Nice to meet you, Miya. My name is Markus, but please call me Mari. Everyone does”  
“It's my pleasure, Mari”, Miya says.

“Luca is in the kitchen. Go wash your hands and greet him then, okay?”, Mari says and touches my shoulder briefly.

I lead Miya to the bathroom.  
She glances back at Mari, before she turns towards me.  
“He… he's…” she mumbles and glances at the door.  
I smile.

Both Mari and Luca somehow managed to remain beautiful, even at the age of 46. Sure, their age showed on their faces.  
But nevertheless, there was an air of beauty around them.  
Maybe that's just my perception though.

I think I'll always remember the strong two men who saved me; their strength, their beauty, their kindness.

Today, only one picture remains, that reminds of my first years.

It's hidden in the back of a photo book. A picture, that I used to stare at in wonder.

It was taken in a hairdresser's shop. The twins both had freshly cut hair. The hairdresser stood next to them and was obviously the one taking the picture, as you can see him extend his arm, holding the camera.  
And me. Held by one of the twins.  
Two years old, smiling with a strand of long, brown hair in my hands and a yellowing bruise on my face.

I swallow hard and look in the mirror.  
I'm fine.  
I'm okay. I'm safe.

I look at Miya and smile at her. It's not a fake smile.

She looks worried for a moment, but follows me back down the hallway to the living room, which leads to the kitchen.  
“Sam”, she says and stops. She looks at the bed in the living room corner. I walked past it, not noticing it until she does.  
I do live here after all. Everything here is familiar to me.

“Ah, Mari and Luca sleep here”, I explain. Miya raises an eyebrow.  
“We're brothers, so it's fine to share a bed. And like this, Sam could have his own room”, Mari says. I look at him.  
He just carried a plate to the table. So Luca's done cooking, I guess.

“I see”, Miya says and looks pensive for a moment, “Don't you have your own bedroom though?”  
Mari gestures for us to sit at the table.  
“Sam's room used to be Luca's and my bedroom”, he explains, while Luca finally shows up, carrying another plate.  
“but we gave it to Sam, so he could have his own room” he adds.

“Mari said that already”, I note.  
“Ah, well”, Luca murmurs and smiles at me before turning to Miya.  
“I guess you already know, but just for the protocol”, he starts and offers his hand to her, “I'm Lucas” - “I should call you Luca, as everyone does, right?”, Miya interrupts and smiles.  
“Right”, Luca says and returns her smile.

I relax.

They like her, I guess. They treat her with their usual kindness, and she responds to it perfectly. I had no reason to worry, I guess.

We sit at the table and start eating. Miya sits to my left, Mari to my right and next to him sits Luca.  
“This is amazing!”, Miya says and takes another bite of her meal. Luca made one of our favorite dishes. It's rice with vegetables, chick peas, tender meat and just the right amount of butter to bring out the creamy flavor and greasy texture.  
“Thank you”, Luca says and smiles.  
“What did you use in this? I cook too, can you give me the recipe?”, Miya asks and I can't help but laugh.  
This is what I love about her.  
She's so cheerful, so brave and eager, but always kind.

I love the twins too, obviously. They are my family, but there has always been something about them, that I couldn't quite understand.

A kind of melancholy, that followed them, even when they smiled and laughed.

I think it may be something that comes with age. 

“Sure. I'll write it down for you”, Luca replies and throws a glance at Mari. Mari smiles lovingly and continues to eat.  
This is what I meant.  
This sort of melancholy.

Sure, he smiled, but something in their eyes remained untouched by their joy.

I look at Miya, who licks her lips and swallows the food she had in her mouth to give me a wide smile.  
I smile back at her.

I think I can hear Mari chuckle. I glance at him and blush.  
Damn… 

 

Once we've eaten up, Luca takes the dishes away.  
Miya grabs my hand and looks around the living room.  
“Sam”, Luca calls from the kitchen, “Would you like to have your hot chocolate?”  
Miya squeezes my hand for a second.  
I look at her.

Mari stands up from his seat.  
“Sam?”  
“Ah, yes. Please”, I finally remember to say. He goes to the kitchen and I hear him talk to Luca. Luca looks at me and smiles.  
I lower my head and look at Miya's hand in mine.

“Hot chocolate?”, she asks, “Isn't it too warm for that?”  
I shake my head and look at her.  
“It's… a habit”, I admit.

An old habit.  
One that first formed 14 years ago. 

The taste always reminded me of safety, of warmth and of love.  
I don't like the normal chocolate-milk stuff they sell at the school canteen. It's way too sweet and lacks flavor.

“Sam?”, Miya asks and squeezes my hand gently.  
“Yes, Miya?”  
“Are you okay?”  
“Yeah”

“Really?”

I look at her and smile.  
Yes, I really am okay.  
There will always remain shards of memories in my heart, that cause me anxiety and pain. But they are nothing, compared to the love I've received throughout my life.

“They saved me”, I say softly.

I didn't think I'd tell her about that.  
I thought I'd be fine, not telling her. But seeing her right now, seeing her honest concern, I can't help but think, that maybe it's better to tell her.

“Mari and Luca?”, Miya asks.  
I nod.  
“They took me in, after...”  
Luca leaves the kitchen, two cups in his hands. One of them he sets down in front of me. I breathe in the familiar smell.  
“after… my father… hit me”  
I grab the cup with my free hand and take a sip, never releasing Miya's hand.  
“They took me in and offered this to me.” I nod towards my cup.

Miya looks at me in silence.

“Sam was two years old then. He cried and I couldn't just send him back”, Mari says and sets down his own cup as he sits next to Luca.

“I'm okay now, Miya. They saved me, as I said. It's really okay”, I assure Miya and squeeze her hand.  
She tears her gaze away from me and looks at the twins. A few moments pass, before she smiles at me.  
“Okay then”, she says and relaxes, “enjoy your hot chocolate then”  
I smile.  
“Wanna try?”, I ask.  
She throws a glance at the twins, before she nods.

I hand her my cup and she takes a sip from it.

She doesn't say anything and hands the cup back to me.  
She licks her lips and swallows once more.

“It's so good”, she then finally murmurs.

I smile.

“Yeah”

“You know… My brother almost died, when I was like… seven or so”, Miya suddenly says. She shoots me a glance.  
“He got into some fight and got stabbed in his leg, which almost severed his femoral artery. He fought back, as hard as he could… ”  
She looks at the twins and this time her gaze lingers on their faces.  
“He survived. He's fine now. He's awesome”, she says and looks at me, “He's got a boyfriend and all”  
I smile.

“Why I'm saying this though, is because I… worry” she lowers her head and avoids my eyes. Honestly, I didn't think she'd open up right now. I didn't expect her to.  
Not with the twins here.  
This feels more like a talk one would have on a sleepless night, with a thunderstorm raging outside.

Not today, when the sun is shining down upon us with golden warmth.

Or maybe, that's why.  
Because today, we are okay. Today we don't hurt, when thinking of painful things.

I don't care, that the twins are here. I stand from my seat and pull her into my arms.  
“I'm-” I start, but she interrupts me. “I know you're fine. I know you're not him, and you were saved”, she looks at me from within my arms, “My brother is fine too. He even helps others. He's a psychiatric therapist” - “But such scars don't just heal away, Miya”

She hides her face against my arm.

I feel a smile illuminating the room.  
It's Mari's.  
“You'll be fine. All of you”, he says and stands up, “Trust an old man”  
I look at him. At his and Luca's intertwined hands. 

These aren't his words alone, even though he's the one voicing them.

“Your brother has people helping him. You have your brother and our dear Sam. Sam has us and we have each other, we have our family”, Mari says.  
His words carry more weight than one would ever expect from a simple meeting like this. 

I'm introducing my girlfriend to him, to him and Luca. Still his words express what floated unsaid in the air.

This is what I've always felt.

This melancholy, that is ever present.  
It clings to them, and it clings to me. It even has a grasp on my beautiful, ever smiling Miya.

Mari's arms wrap around my shoulders and his hands rest against Miya's back.  
“Cheer up, you two”, he coos and pulls away from us to fluff up my hair.

Finally I'm the boy again that was saved by them.  
I laugh and try to escape.

“Mari! Miya is here! You can mess with me when she's not here” I whine at him. He smirks.  
“That's my job. I need to show my daughter-in-law-to-be what her future husband is like”

“Mari!”

Miya laughs and takes a sip from my hot chocolate.

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed this story!


End file.
